Waking Up
by Falfaly
Summary: Waking up from his carbonite prison, Han Solo comes to terms with how everything around him as changed. Will he? [ROTJ missing moments. Chapters updated as revised. Warnings: language, adult situations, mental health issues]
1. Chapter 1

**Waking Up**

**by CorellianBlue**

_(first published 2002, revised 2016 and 2020)_

**I**

Against medical advice, Han Solo opened his eyes, and immediately regretted the decision. An explosion slammed into his eyes, the ache penetrating deep into his brain. Physically cowering, he covered his hands across his face and screwed his eyes shut, the new agony momentarily blocking out his nausea and bone-aching weariness.

Nearby, the huffing growl of a Wookiee chuckle did not improve Solo's mood, but the inevitable lecture from Chewbacca did not come. Wondering if he was sicker or more pathetic-looking than he thought he was, Solo self-consciously straightened his shoulders and adjusted his seated position on the medical bunk, long legs dangling over the side.

Unenthusiastically, Solo tried to reassure himself that, all things considered, he didn't feel too bad. Not too bad for a guy who had spent the last Standard year frozen in a solid block of carbonite. The medical examination had come to the same conclusion, but painfully slower than Han had.

His symptoms indicated he was still suffering from dehydration, a lingering hypersensitivity of his senses, and joint stiffness and muscular weakness caused by severe contractions. The dehydration and consistent vomiting were upsetting the balance of his electrolytes, which in turn made him fatigued, irritable and about as close to shit as he had ever felt in his life. The doctor had explained that as he was physically and mentally exhausted from the trauma of a primitive hibernation process and the scan-grid torture on Cloud City, he needed to rest and recuperate more than anything.

_Rest, _Solo thought bitterly. _I've had more than enough rest to last me a lifetime._

He knew that wasn't true. The suspended animation had not been akin to sleep or unconsciousness, not by any stretch of the imagination. Despite not wanting to think about it, Han had vivid recollections of exactly what it had been like—a living nightmare: not quite fully cognizant of where he was, always straining to work it out, to remember, to fight against the constant pain and the suffocating need to draw breath.

Han's heart beat quickly at the thought, and he rubbed his hands across his face and up through his hair. The examination room's regulated air was suddenly ice-cold against his bare skin and he trembled in response. At least it was a change from the humid air that hung throughout the rest of the Mon Calamari cruiser. Even though the ship's company was comprised of mainly humans who preferred more temperate conditions, he had found the cruiser's environment thick and oppressive from the moment he had arrived onboard. The air had seemed to cling to his body as heavily as the carbonite had.

Han decided he wouldn't think about the carbonite now. Couldn't afford to. The doctor had offered him psychological counselling, but he had shrugged it off in the dismissive manner he was renowned for.

He was fine, he had assured the doctor. If anything, he'd been a little insane _before_ the carbonite. He had joked that with any hope the freezing process had straightened him out a bit. The doctor had simply regarded him with a sceptical eyebrow and advised that her offer remained open whenever he felt up to accepting it.

Solo shivered and struggled to ignore the vague buzzing that persisted in his ears. There was too much noise in this place for his liking. He had been afforded some privacy by being placed in the small examination room, but the ruckus coming from beyond the closed hatch was getting on his nerves. Outside, the constant rumble of voices and the clatter of equipment and people being moved about made him grimace and twitch. The Alliance was in full-scale preparation for an assault against the Empire. But this was supposed to be a medical facility for sick people. Couldn't they be a bit quieter while they prepared for all-out war?

There was also a bad smell coming from somewhere. A nausea-inducing combination of vomit, stale human sweat and the sickly stench of carbonite that sometimes made him forget about the bitter, metallic taste in his mouth. Solo suspected he was the source of the odour.

At least his mind had finally jettisoned the hallucinations that had sporadically haunted him. That had been the worst thing about his sight returning: initially he had been unable to tell the difference between reality and the delusions that had periodically gripped him.

A spasm contorted Han's stomach, triggering a gasping wince. He fought back the stream of bile rising in his throat, refusing to heave up yet another mouthful of foul-smelling yellow-green liquid into the bowl he guaranteed Chewie was still holding. He had already vomited and dry-retched more since his rescue than he had throughout the whole of his life.

The first time Han had thrown up was as the guards had dragged him down the hallways to the cells in Jabba's dungeons. Shivering and sweating uncontrollably following his release from the carbonite, his body had convulsed, rejecting the fetid remains of the last meal he had consumed and a small amount of the carbonite that had entered his digestive tract. The guards had not been sympathetic, particularly as they had worn most of Solo's vomit across their boots. The smuggler had received a whack across the back of the head and a few punches to his stomach, causing him to heave again. Enraged, the guards had pushed Han unceremoniously in through the cell door, his blindness serving to disorientate him further.

After being reunited with Chewbacca, the nausea had overwhelmed Han again. The Wookiee had tenderly held onto his friend as Han heaved up clods of bile and carbonite, dry retching for long minutes after his stomach was empty. Even if he hadn't had been so exhausted from all the vomiting, he would not have been abashed at his body's sudden need to expel the contents of his bowels. His bond with Chewbacca was deep enough that embarrassment was one thing that did not come between the two friends. Fortunately, Chewie was able to help Han into the corner of the cell and remove his trousers before he could soil himself. Han had been grateful then, and now as he recalled it, that Leia hadn't been around to witness such a potentially humiliating situation.

The sudden thought of Leia twisted Solo's stomach again and amplified the thumping pulse in his temples. He wondered where the princess was.

Throughout most of the 30-hour voyage from Tatooine, Leia had not strayed far from his side, keeping a vigil next to him as he had recovered in the _Falcon's_ medical bunk. Han had slept most of the journey through hyperspace, and when he hadn't been sleeping he'd been spewing up his heart into a bowl or into the sani. Even the tasteless mush Leia had tried to feed him had refused to stay down.

Solo's sleep had been far from restful, wrestling with demons from his past in carbonite-spawned nightmares. But the worst feeling would come just before he awoke. In those moments as he hovered between sleep and consciousness, he had been never being quite sure whether he was safe onboard his ship and simply dreaming horrific images, or if he was still trapped inside the carbonite. More than once he had awoken from these nightmares, drenched in sweat and screaming.

Leia had been there for him throughout his ordeal, holding his hand, wiping his feverish face, soothing him with feather-soft kisses across his brow. His guardian angel, he had deliriously thought of her then. _His_ princess.

So where the hell was she now? It almost felt as if she had dumped him at the medcenter and disappeared back into the convoluted apparatus that was the High Command of the Rebel Alliance.

A softly spoken Wookiee interrogative drew the Corellian back to the present.

"No, I don't wanna throw up again," Solo snapped defensively, but his body thought otherwise.

Han doubled over and heaved up a wad of bile, knowing without a doubt that Chewie was holding the bowl immediately beneath his chin. The acid burned the back of his throat and he heaved again, the convulsive gagging reaction feeding upon itself.

Han gripped the edge of the bed in a white-knuckled hold, shoulders trembling as he willed the retching to cease. Despite the cool air, his bare shoulders and chest broke out in sweat as he rode the choking sensation. The nausea gradually subsided, but he could still feel a solid lump in his stomach.

He swore the lump was a mound of carbonite, despite the doctor's reassurances there was nothing there and it was more likely a psychosomatic response to the carbonite's vice-like pressure that had entrapped his body. Admittedly there had also been a tightness in his chest that had seemed to restrict his breathing, but that had since faded to the odd twinge. Han could only assume that, for the time being, the weight in his stomach would remain, along with the nausea.

In combination, this also meant that the last thing Han felt like doing was eating. The doctor had advised that if he didn't start eating soon, he would be admitted into the medical center and placed on intravenous therapy—or worse, a gavage to force-feed him. Her threat had, at least, made him accept the anti-emetic medication she offered to combat the nausea and vomiting.

For a spice smuggler used to running drugs and intoxicants of many varieties, Han had a natural wariness towards _any_ sort of medication, but he'd been so fed up with vomiting he had almost thankfully submitted himself to the infuser. Now, still hunched over, rubbing at the contorted muscles of his stomach and spitting into the bowl, he wondered why the hell he was still throwing up.

Coarse Wookiee hair brushed against Han's face as Chewie wiped a string of spittle from his friend's mouth.

"All right," Han acknowledged hoarsely, shaking his head in self-disgust, "so maybe I changed my mind. Again. Maybe I enjoy puking."

Solo accepted the tumbler of water pressed into his hand, rinsed his mouth, and then quenched the rest of his thirst. At least water stayed down. Most of the time.

[You are doing well, Little Brother,] Chewbacca rumbled. [Much better than I had hoped.] There was a distant ringing in Han's ears as the Wookiee set the metallic bowl down on the floor. [Perhaps you should lay back and get some rest.]

"I'm tired of sleeping," Solo complained, making no effort keep the irritation from his tone. "All I've done since Tatooine is sleep. Sleep and puke," he amended.

Chewbacca chuckled, then quickly apologised. The Wookiee's uncharacteristic apology was about all Solo could handle.

"Stop it, Chewie. This is me you're talking to. I'm not an invalid. I'm not so fragile that you have creep around me all the time. You got something to say, you look me in the eye and you say it."

To punctuate his annoyance, Han opened his eyes and stared in what he hoped was the right direction. The pain was just bearable. Now it only felt like grit was coating the inside of his eyelids instead of shards of ground glass. But one thing was certain—he still couldn't see. Smudges of colour shifted across his vision, melding, wobbling and refusing to conform to anything near to sharp focus.

It took considerable effort for him to ignore the adrenaline rushing through his system and convince himself that his sight had _not_ returned to the state it had been at the beginning of his hibernation sickness, that his retinas had _not_ detached as had been an initial concern. His blurry vision was now caused by ophthalmic drops that had been placed in his eyes for the medical examination. There was no damage to his eyes as the temporary blindness he'd experienced had been simply caused by lack of use.

_Lack of use, _Han dully reminded himself. _One year's lack of use._

The ophthalmic drops had relaxed the muscles in his eyes and dilated the pupils, meaning he was unable to focus properly. The doctor had suggested that a possible side effect of the drops, combined with the hibernation sickness, could be a sensitivity to light that would wear off within a few hours.

That meant more time he had to spend feeling like shit. And what the hell was he going to do, sitting in his underwear on a bunk in the medcenter, feeling like shit?

Solo wondered if he might be able to make it back to the _Millennium Falcon_, as he would find it a lot easier to relax in the comfort of his own bunk on his own ship. But he knew it would be a struggle convincing Chewie to allow him to go back to the _Falcon_.

Solo suspected that if the Wookiee had his way, he'd be checked into a ward for a few days. The Corellian also doubted that Chewie would let him out of his sight, so there was no chance of waiting until Chewie left him alone for a moment and then bugging out. Besides, not only would Han have to stumble blindly through unfamiliar corridors to the hangar deck, first he had to find his clothes.

_It just ain't gonna happen,_ Solo told himself. _Not without Chewie's help._ He needed to persuade his partner that the best place for him was back with his ship.

[How are your eyes?] Chewbacca asked, his concern evident. [Are they as light sensitive as the doctor predicted?]

Refusing to wince any more, Han replied, "They only sting a bit. Worst thing is not being able to focus properly." He gestured towards the brown blur that had to be the Wookiee. "It sort of reminds me of those screaming hangovers I've had."

Han could hear the grin in Chewbacca's response. [You are certainly an authority in that field.]

"Years of dedicated study," Solo agreed. "As I recall, you haven't done too badly yourself on that front either, Professor."

Chewie's reply reeked of false modesty. [I am a simple apprentice compared with yourself, Little Brother.]

Han nodded and raised a sanctimonious finger. "And don't you forget it."

Chewbacca chuckled and Han was relieved to finally hear his friend relaxing back into the familiar banter they shared. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps the Wookiee would be receptive about helping him return to the _Falcon_.

Han licked his dry lips. "Hey, partner, why don't we blow this joint? Head back to the _Falcon_ and relax in the comforts of home. I'll even let you win at dejarik."

[The doctor told you to stay put until you could see. She also wants to see you again before letting you go.]

Han's stomach tipped and tightened as a cold chill ran up his spine, but he raised a dismissive hand. "My sight's getting better. Besides, I never listen to doctors."

[I've noticed.]

"C'mon, Chewie." Han's plea was almost a whine. "You know how much I hate medcenters. They make me feel like I'm sick."

[You _are_ sick,] Chewie pointed out.

"Doc didn't think so."

[That's not quite the way she put it.]

Solo couldn't repress a truculent sigh. Chewie wasn't going for this. He needed another plan. He tilted his head tilted downwards, trying to gauge the distance to the floor based on the position of the brown blur he thought was Chewie's head.

_Not that far, _he decided. _Forty, fifty centimetres, tops._

Solo slipped from the examination bunk. The shock of his bare feet hitting hard floor jolted through him, the deck having broken his fall sooner than he had anticipated. The sudden impact jarred every bone in his body and a dizzying rush caused him to sway for a moment. He steadied himself against the edge of the bunk, swallowed away the acidic burn rising in his gullet.

_Not again!_

Chewbacca growled a warning, [Han…]

"Look, I'm up. Get my clothes and we're outta…"

Solo was able to take a few faltering steps before the nausea returned in a trembling surge. The next thing he knew he was on his knees, coughing up more gunk into the bowl that had appeared from nowhere. Han could not that believe his body had anything more to get rid of.

The attack did not last long and he soon crumpled up onto his side, seeking relief from a sudden feverish sweat in the coolness of the deck. He did not resist when Chewbacca gently picked him up as easily as if he was a child and laid him on the bunk in the same position, half on his side, his face turned against the cool sheets.

"'S'just a bit dizzy from sitting still," Solo weakly insisted, but he made no attempt to move, having finally found a position that seemed to combat the nausea.

The pulse thumped in his ears and he tried to ignore the generally ill-feeling that had swamped him. He closed his eyes and bit his lip to repress a whimper.

Han felt a light blanket being draped across him, then a Wookiee palm press against his forehead.

[Please lay still,] Chewbacca insisted. [I have enough to worry about without having to chase you around the ship with a sick bowl.]

"You're all heart, pal." The gentle caress of Wookiee fingers across his brow was a surprising comfort. "Be fine if I could stop throwing up."

[You'd be fine if you allowed yourself time to recover.]

"I'm _not_ sick." He opened a useless eye at the sound of Chewie's chuckle, then shut it again. "Besides, I had plenty of time lying around on the flight from Tatooine."

Chewbacca shushed him impatiently. [Rest. Relax. You'll need your strength if you intend staying with the Rebellion.]

The words stung Han more than he cared to admit. His friend's comment was more accusation, indictment and dare than a casual passing remark.

Han's voice was tight in his throat. "Do you think I'd just leave?"

Chewbacca sighed deeply. [You are very much your own being, Han. In the past you have done as you please with little thought for what is best, for yourself and for those who care about you.] The Wookiee continued smoothing the hair across Han's forehead. [Besides, you have not yet told me your intentions. But whatever you decide, Little Brother, I will remain by your side, for I have pledged a bond to you.]

Han's stomach dropped again, though it had nothing to do with the nausea. He knew what he wanted to say: _These people are my friends. Like you're my friend. And you all put your necks on the line to save me. Me! Even that slimy bastard Lando helped out._

Since his rescue, these thoughts had crowded Solo's mind as much as his nightmares. He was aware that his mumbled thanks to the Solo Rescue and Recovery Party on Tatooine had been totally inadequate. It frustrated him no end that he had been unable to express his gratitude, and annoyed only slightly less that his friends had not expected anything more from him. They had instead accepted his quiet solemnity as thanks enough.

"We're staying." His voice, though quiet, was uncompromising.

Chewie softly warbled, [You love her.]

Han's response was instinctive. "More than anything."

[More than yourself?] Chewie playfully suggested.

The corner of Han's mouth quirked up. "You're pretty hard on a sick guy, you know. What'll you do once I'm back to normal?"

[So, you admit you're ill.]

"I'm not sick!" The strength of his claim almost made him heave again and he reconsidered his assertion. "Well, maybe a little."

"Maybe a lot."

Solo turned his head towards the new voice. He had not heard the hatch to the examination room open, nor the footsteps of a newcomer, and it mildly disturbed him.

"Doc? Back so soon? Did you miss me?" He deliberately took on a buoyant air, hoping he sounded as cheerful as his words, even if he felt far from that way. "Are you here to send me out on parole? Release me back into society?"

Han assumed Doctor Tuulavich was staring at him in careful consideration. "Now you're giving me ideas, Solo. A detention facility might be a good place for you. At least it would make you stay put."

Her fingers felt cold as she placed a diagnostic collar around his wrist to take his temperature, pulse and blood pressure. He was tempted to sit up, to prove just how well he was, but the bunk seemed very comfortable at that moment and it wouldn't do his argument any good if he threw up again in front of her. Or on her.

"Am I still alive?" he asked her, struggling to rouse his old sardonic attitude.

The doctor's palm pressed coolly against his forehead, the backs of her fingers tapped against his cheek, and she expelled her breath in a sigh of annoyance.

"Despite your best efforts, yes."

Solo tried to remain co-operative as the doctor turned his head none-too-gently so he was looking up at her. Using her fingertip, she pulled down one of his lower eyelids to expose his eyeball. A bright light suddenly shone into his pupil and he recoiled, growling in protest, arms raised defensively to protect his eyes from further inspection.

The doctor made a _tsking_ noise but made no attempt to continue examining his eyes.

"Still a bit sensitive," she remarked.

"What did you expect?" Solo groused. "You said it would take a few hours."

"I wasn't talking about your eyes."

Chewbacca woofed appreciatively and the Corellian was grappling to think of a suitable comeback when he heard the sick bowl being collected off the deck. He tried not to pull a face.

Tuulavich observed, "I take it the anti-emetic isn't working too well."

"I think I got the batch without the 'anti' in it," Han griped.

The doctor collected Han's wrist again and took a moment to study the analysis from the diagnostic collar before commenting, "Your temperature is up, as is your pulse, and your blood pressure is low."

Tuulavich's next question was not directed toward Solo. "He's not resting at all, is he?"

There was a pause where Han supposed Chewbacca shook his head in response to the query before adding—no doubt for Han's benefit—in a light-hearted ribbing, [He's always been difficult to handle.]

"Hey!" Han protested. "I'm listening down here."

"I think we should move to Plan B," Tuulavich suggested.

Chewbacca _whuffled_ his agreement.

"Plan B?" Han asked warily, head tilted upwards as he strained to decipher the blurs above him. "What's that?"

"Say 'good night', Solo."

"Good night?" Han felt the head of the infuser press against his neck. There was a moment of panic—"N-no—" before the sedative overwhelmed him.

* * *

...continued in II...


	2. Chapter 2

**Waking Up**

**by CorellianBlue**

_(first published 2002, revised 2016 and 2020)_

**II**

Chewbacca insisted on carrying the sedated Solo into the medcenter's general ward, so there was no need for a gurney. The Wookiee cradled his friend in his arms, following the medical staff into a relatively quiet corner. Although only a few of the other beds were occupied, privacy screens were activated as soon as Chewbacca laid Solo on the bed.

Chewbacca was allowed to remain by Solo's side as the Corellian was prepped for an enforced stay in the medcenter. Chewbacca suspected that, rather than extending this as a courtesy towards him, he was given the opportunity to remain because the medical staff were more concerned by what he would do if they attempted to move him on. He played on these concerns, baring his canine teeth and uttering the occasional low growl if someone looked at him for too long.

Chewbacca watched at the impressive speed and care with which the medics and droid assistants worked as they fitted Solo with sensor pads across his chest, stomach and temples. The bedside analysis monitor beeped into life, displaying Han's heart rate, respiration, body temperature, blood pressure and brain activity.

A nasal cannula delivering a gentle mix of oxygen and air was fitted next, just as a precautionary measure, Doctor Tuulavich reassured Chewbacca.

Under the doctor's instruction, another cannula was inserted into a vein in the crook of Solo's elbow, and a range of fluids were soon being dripped into the Corellian.

"I'd like to keep Solo under sedation for a few days," Tuulavich explained to Chewbacca and her staff. "To allow his body and mind some time to properly recover. We'll also get him rehydrated and his electrolyte levels back towards normal." Tuulavich studied the analysis monitor for a moment, considering the read-outs from Solo's vital signs. "Don't worry. We'll take good of him."

Chewbacca rumbled his thanks.

"As we're currently light on patients and considering the special circumstances were about to run into," Tuulavich explained, "I'm happy for Solo to receive visitors at any time."

The doctor excused herself and the medics finalised their preparations, beginning by removing Solo's undershorts. Chewbacca winced and had to look away as a catheter was inserted into Solo's urethra. Although the Wookiee understood that this procedure was vital for drawing urine from Solo's bladder, he was grateful his friend was sedated and unable to endure the indignity of the process, not to mention the discomfort. Solo would kill him when he awoke and discovered that his partner had consented to the medics inserting medical devices into him. But if Solo was strong enough in a few days to physically threaten the Wookiee's life, then Chewbacca knew this would all be worth it.

A light sheet and blanket were arranged around Solo's sedated form, his vital signs checked again, and then the medics pushed their way through the translucent privacy screen, leaving the Wookiee alone with his friend.

Chewbacca allowed himself a long, ragged sigh as he lowered himself into a chair. He knew a bedside vigil was pointless, but the Wookiee wanted a few quiet moments alone with Han.

It had been a long, hard year since he had lost Solo on Bespin. Chewbacca knew what he had personally undergone was nothing in comparison with what Han had suffered through, yet the year had taken a toll on the Wookiee.

Chewbacca had been humiliated and frustrated that he had been unable to protect his Honour Brother, unable to uphold the Life Debt he owed to Han. Against his primal instincts, Chewbacca had been forced to work side-by-side with Calrissian to develop a strategy to rescue Han. He'd had to learn to trust and rely upon Calrissian when all he had wanted to do was rip the man apart, slowly and painfully.

Chewbacca had also seriously questioned his own ability to protect the princess—as Han had instructed him to do—while he and Calrissian were conducting reconnaissance on Tatooine. The Wookiee had spent some time trying to convince Leia she should not go with them to Tatooine, but she had insisted upon playing a significant role in Solo's rescue.

And Chewbacca had experienced a deep and humbling shame when Leia had been forced to endure the humiliation of being enslaved within Jabba the Hutt's palace.

Chewbacca had failed not only Han but the little princess he had included within his Honour Family.

But that was all in the past. Han was safe. Leia was safe. And they were all home. Home aboard _Home One_.

_The princess…_

Chewbacca wanted to personally tell Leia that Han had been sedated and would be temporarily out of action. Although she had accompanied Solo to the medcenter, Chewbacca knew the medical staff would not inform the princess about Han's current condition. After all, it would be incongruous for the Rebel leader to be intimately involved with the smuggler. Chewbacca also felt he owed Leia the courtesy of personally telling her about Solo's condition and prognosis. It was the least he could do after he had repeatedly failed her.

Chewbacca rose from his seat, fondly ruffled Solo's hair, and headed off to find the princess.

* * *

...continued in III


	3. Chapter 3

**Waking Up**

**by CorellianBlue**

_(first published 2002, revised 2016 and 2020)_

_Warnings: language, adult situations_

**III**

* * *

Leia Organa suspected they were deliberately making her wait. That, or she had been forgotten about. She didn't know which possibility was worse.

She adjusted her position on the uncomfortable chair, standing, stretching side to side, shaking her legs, then resuming her seat. Her rear and the small of her back ached from sitting still for nearly two hours. She was trying her best to remain professional and detached, however her patience was threadbare and her nerves on edge.

For the first forty minutes of the interview, there had been company with her in the small debriefing room. 'Company', Leia decided, was too generous a word. The intelligence officers—two young men—who had interviewed her had not been polite, congenial or observant of her rank and position. One of the men—Lieutenant Terric, she believed was his name—was exceptionally disrespectful and confrontational.

The questions, and the manner they had been fired at her, indicated that it was never intended to be an interview; _interrogation_ was closer to the truth. And while Leia could understand why the Alliance needed to fully vet and validate her before she was accepted her back into its ranks, she was still frustrated that her loyalty and motives were being challenged and questioned.

She could understand why Lando Calrissian's intentions required scrutiny, and she wouldn't be surprised if they hauled Han up for similar questioning once his medical examination had finished. But she had hoped that her own standing in the High Command, her rank and service with the Alliance, would have placed her beyond reproach.

_Luke would've handled this situation much better_, Leia counselled herself. In fact, Luke would also be interviewed once he returned to the Fleet.

Luke was a more understanding and forgiving soul than Leia would ever be. Luke would accept the need to clarify what had happened during their absence. After all, they had been away for over a month. Lando and Chewbacca had been gone for even longer. They couldn't simply expect to waltz back into the Alliance and take up where they had left off.

Luke would respond to the questions with seriousness and good humour, which was nothing like Leia had. Her answers had been terse and delivered in a monotone. When she had been asked if she was intimately involved with either Luke, Lando or Han, Leia had bluntly replied that she was _fucking all of them_, including the Wookiee, and did the intelligence officers want to join in or watch? That little outburst from her had silenced the two lieutenants and brought the interrogation to an abrupt halt. They had left her alone ever since.

The air in the briefing room was stifling, and Leia opened the collar of the Rebel uniform she had changed into on the flight back from Tatooine. Although her rank badge still identified as a colonel, she knew she would be demoted once this was over.

Alliance colonels didn't disobey direct orders not to leave the Fleet. Alliance colonels didn't go AWOL to rescue a smuggler. Alliance colonels certainly didn't _fuck_ and an unenlisted smuggler, even if that had been 10 months ago during their escape from Hoth.

Leia had been attempting to relax. An attempt was all it was, as she was currently too fixated on being angry to unwind. Being angry was something she had experience in and could control. Sitting here, uselessly waiting, only emphasized how powerless she was.

Luke had taught her this relaxation technique after they had arrived back at the Fleet from Bespin. Initially, she had not believed she could tap into what was a Jedi skill, but she had quickly grasped the exercise and had regularly used it when she had felt overwhelmed by her loss of Han.

_Han…_

Leia's stomach wobbled again at the thought that Han was alive. Alive, and only a few decks away from her in the medcenter. During the long, lonely months of his entombment in carbonite, she had dared to dream of this moment. But now it was here, it was nothing like she had hoped for.

Something didn't feel right. She wasn't sure if it was just because Han had been ill following his release from the carbonite. She had always known that he would experience a form of hibernation sickness, and she had more than adequately prepared for it, including having necessary medication onboard the _Falcon_ to offer him initial treatment.

Seeing Han so sick had scared Leia. Never had she seen him in such a weak and distressed state. She had even considered the horrible possibility that he would not recover. But a few hours before they had dropped out of hyperspace, his condition had stabilised and he had sparked up. Well, he had said he was feeling better; whether that had been the complete truth, the medical staff would determine.

And although she acknowledged that she couldn't expect her and Han to simply pick up their relationship from where they had left it—now nearly a Standard year ago—part of her was worried about that as well. Attempting to have an intimate relationship onboard a cruiser, or sequestered away on some backwater planet, while fighting a war against the Empire was not something Leia had ever contemplated doing. And yet she was about to do just that.

Leia knew Han loved her.

He had effectively admitted as much, even if he hadn't used those precise, precious three words. That was why he had remained with the Alliance for three years, when he could have been doing everything possible to pay back Jabba the Hutt. That was why he had been bitter and frustrated with her when she rebuffed his attempted to say good-bye on Hoth. That was why he had raced to the base command center when he had heard it had been hit, when he could have been escaping without her.

Once they had started sleeping together during the flight to Bespin, all of their interactions had proven that love to her.

Han was alive. Alive, and with her. That was all that mattered. They would make this work, whatever it took.

If Han had had a comlink on him, Leia would've called him, just to see how the medical examination was coming along. Or maybe not; she didn't want to look too clingy or make him feel that she was mothering him. Or _smothering_ him.

Leia closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, tried to relax the cramped muscles in her neck and shoulders, and allowed her thoughts to become untangled. For a moment, the meditation worked. She felt as though she was floating, her consciousness drifting on a cloud of peace and contentment.

And then she thought of Han again, and the uncomfortable feeling returned. She wanted—needed—to see him. Needed to see him right now. _Fuck the interrogation._

Leia rose from her seat and palmed open the door to the room. The area immediately outside the briefing room was humming as Rebel soldiers went about their duties at their workstations. A few officers were crowded around a holo-tank display located in the middle of the workstations, talking among themselves.

Leia stopped on the threshold of the room and waited to see if anyone would try to prevent her from leaving. No one so much as glanced up at her; she left without further hesitation or thought.

As she moved down the aisle between the workstations, Leia became aware of General Carlist Rieekan having an animated discussion with Calrissian in a glassine-walled conference room on the far side of the holo-tank. Rieekan was leaning against the conference table, arms crossed, grinning as Lando related some tale with a series of animated hand movements.

Leia refused to allow the sight of Rieekan acting like best new friends with Calrissian—nor the fact that Calrissian hadn't been ignored and left alone in a debriefing room—deter her from her ultimate goal: seeing Han.

[Princess.]

Leia recognised her name being spoken in Shryiiwook before she realised Chewbacca was standing in front of her.

"Chewie?"

He was alone.

"Where's Han?"

A second later, Leia realised that she should have been more hospitable towards Chewbacca. The Wookiee appeared apologetic rather than annoyed with her reaction.

[I left him at the medcenter. The doctor is not happy with Han's recovery and wants to keep him sedated for a few days.]

Leia did not have a good grasp of Shryiiwook, but she had spent time during the last year learning the Wookiee language. The language lessons had help her to focus on something other than her grief, and had made her feel closer to Han. It also meant she was able to decipher the main gist of Chewbacca's speech without having to rely on Threepio for translation.

"Han's under sedation in the medcenter?" she clarified, her voice rising in concern.

Chewbacca nodded solemnly.

"Is he all right?" Leia was already moving towards the turbolifts with the Wookiee in tow, not sparing a second thought about whomever she was supposed to talk to next. "I only left because I thought the examination would clear him."

[Han is more ill than he has been letting on,] Chewbacca gruffly explained.

Leia understood the sentiment behind Chewbacca's comment, if not the exact words.

"What do you mean?" She pushed the button to call the turbolift car.

Leia could only catch the main words Chewbacca used: vomit, tired, no water, loud ears, bright eyes. She was confident she basically understood what he meant, but decided to wait for a detailed explanation from the doctor.

[Will you be all right if I leave you on your own?] Chewbacca asked Leia as they rode the turbolift down through the deck levels. [I want to ensure the _Falcon_ is ready for the coming party. And Han will not miss me now that he is taking a nap.]

Leia frowned at the Wookiee, uncertain that she had correctly translated the words 'party' and 'nap'.

"I'll be fine, Chewie," she assured him, then added, "And thank you for telling me about Han."

Chewbacca drew the princess in for a loose hug. [We are family, Princess.]

This time, Leia understood him perfectly, and she returned the embrace.

"Yes, Chewie" she agreed, "we definitely are."

* * *

...continued in IV


	4. Chapter 4

**Waking Up**

**by CorellianBlue**

_(first published 2002, revised 2016 and 2020)_

_Warnings: language, adult situations, mental health issues_

**IV**

Leia's instinct had been to rush into the medcenter and locate Han as quickly as possible. However, as usual, her head over-ruled her heart and she decided it would be more prudent to check with the duty medical doctor, get all the facts and then ask to see Han. At least that way she could prepare herself. The run-in with the intelligence officers had left her feeling fragile and uneasy, and she was uncertain how she would react if she was immediately faced with seeing Han in a hospital bed.

Leia was also hoping to find a friendly face—Doctor Cait Reidy—in the medcenter. So many of the personnel Leia had been familiar with had been transferred away from _Home One_ during the time she had been absent. She even noticed, with a healthy level of disdain, that Crix Madine was sitting in the operations center when she had been escorted to the debriefing room for her little chat. Han would not livid when he awoke to find out that he was stationed on the same cruiser as the blond Corellian general; to say they had an unhealthy disdain for one another was an understatement.

It was _Home One's_ senior medical practitioner, Cait Reidy, who had schooled Leia on the possible health risks associated with the carbon freezing and de-freezing process, and provided her with the necessary medication to relieve Han's hibernation sickness once they had made it to the safety of the _Falcon_.

Carbon freeze had never been designed as a method to place sentient lifeforms into a state of hibernation. It was solely meant to transport tibanna gas, not to mention its use as a crude form of torture. Lando had attempted to reassure Leia that the carbon freezing chamber on Cloud City had been sufficiently modified to ensure a human would not be killed by either the freezing or de-freezing process. _Perfect hibernation_ was the way Calrissian had described what had happened to Han. Despite herself, Leia sometimes wished Lando could personally experience just how 'perfect' Han's hibernation had been, even if only for 10 minutes.

The medcenter was buzzing with activity when Leia arrived. She made her way to the office of the duty doctor with the confidence of someone who had been a regular visitor.

The hatchway to the small room was open, but out of courtesy the princess knocked on the nearby bulkhead before stepping inside. The sight of a grey mop of hair bent over the desk, as opposed to Doctor Reidy's purple-tinged locks, drew Leia to a surprised halt.

"Oh," Leia mumbled as the unfamiliar woman on the other side of the desk looked up from her datapad.

"Yes?" the older woman asked.

"A-ah, um, oh," Leia stuttered.

Leia glanced at the desk, searching for a nameplate, then looked back at the woman's face.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked with a long-suffering sigh, her patience clearly strained.

Berating herself for her misstep, Leia recovered her composure. "I'm looking for Doctor Reidy."

The grey-haired doctor pinched the bridge of her nose and slowly shook her head. "I'm not Doctor Reidy."

Leia tried not to take umbrage at the glib response. "I gathered that. I was hoping Doctor Reidy was on duty as she is aware of the history of a patient I wish to discuss with her."

"You can talk to me."

Leia's lips formed a tight smile. "If you don't mind, I'd prefer discussing this matter with Doctor Reidy."

"Cait Reidy was transferred to one of the medical frigates about two weeks ago. So, you talk to me, or no one."

Leia's forced smile slipped. "I see. And you are...?"

The doctor pushed herself back in her chair and regarded Leia critically. "Linden Tuulavich. Cait's replacement."

The princess settled her hands in front of her to stop them from wanting to throttle the doctor.

"Doctor Tuulavich, a pleasure to meet you. I am Leia Organa."

"I know who you are, Princess," Doctor Tuulavich told her evenly. "As you can see," Tuulavich gestured out into the main ward, "we're a bit busy, so I'd appreciate if we could keep this short. Which patient do you want to talk to me about?"

Leia's gaze strayed towards the vacant visitor's chair in front of the desk, silently encouraging Tuulavich to offer her a seat in a gesture of goodwill. The offer did not come. Leia took a seat anyway.

Tuulavich sighed again and made a belated motion towards the chair. "Make yourself at home, Princess."

Leia straightened her posture. "Thank you. I will."

Tuulavich rubbed at her red-rimmed eyes and asked, "So...?"

Leia raised her chin. "I wish to discuss the status of Captain Han Solo."

It was the doctor's turn to give Leia a tight smile. "I'm sure you appreciate that the condition of Captain Solo is medical-in-confidence. I can only discuss such information with his commanding officer, which I understand isn't relevant as Solo is a contracted mercenary, or his next-of-kin, which," Tuulavich took a moment to consult the records on a datapad, "I understand Solo has listed as Chewbacca the Wookiee."

"Oh," was all Leia could respond with.

"Unfortunately, Captain Solo is not in a condition to clarify the nature of his relationship with you," Tuulavich continued. "Unless you can provide me with a good reason why I should breach patient confidentiality, Your Highness, I think this is where our conversation ends."

Leia squashed her initial shock and took a moment to temper her response to the news that she was not officially part of Han's life. But she quickly reasoned her way through what Tuulavich had told her. Han would have listed Chewbacca as his next-of-kin four years ago, when the smugglers had first become involved with the Rebel Alliance. This was not something recent.

"Captain Solo is my…" Leia self-consciously cleared her throat. "I'm…I'm in a…in an intimate relationship with Captain Solo." The memory of her interrogation with the intelligence officers whacked Leia about the head. "Chewbacca would be able to confirm this for you."

"I see." The corner of Tuulavich's mouth loosened into the beginning of a genuine smile. "Then I suggest that both you and Captain Solo have your personal records updated, particularly considering what we'll be up against in the next week or so."

Leia contritely agreed, "Yes," and then unintentionally exhaled in relief. "I'll suggest that to Han when he's on his feet."

Tuulavich nodded and considered her datapad again. "You're aware I've placed Captain Solo under sedation?"

"Yes," Leia replied. "Chewbacca informed me."

Tuulavich met Leia's gaze. "I only did so to make sure he gets some rest. I had no hope in hell otherwise."

"That's a fair observation."

Tuulavich raised an eyebrow at the comment and continued. "Cait left me notes about her discussions with you, so I'm aware of some of the history leading to Solo's condition. The primitive hibernation process has caused considerable physiological trauma to Solo, but it's nothing he can't recover from."

Leia refrained another relieved sigh.

"At the moment, he's dehydrated, fatigued, stiff and sore. The sensory deprivation he experienced also means he's having trouble processing the sensory information his body is taking in, so to him everything seems too bright, too loud, too smelly, too hot and too cold."

"But there's no permanent damage to his eyes?"

"Fortunately, no. As I said, Solo needs to rest to allow his body time to recover. Fifty to sixty hours of enforced, non-REM sleep should help. I realise that sounds like a long time, but he needs it. Placing him into stage three of a non-rapid-eye-movement sleep will allow his body to repair itself, regrow tissue, build bone and muscle and strengthen his immune system. Unfortunately, he'll still be a bit tired and sore when he wakes up. But he'll get over that."

Leia processed the doctor's explanation. The prognosis for Han's recovery was promising, more than she had hoped, and she allowed herself a moment to enjoy the simple feeling of relief. Then she sensed Tuulavich had more to tell.

"But…?" Leia prodded.

Doctor Tuulavich's smile was appreciative but it contained no mirth.

"I'm in no doubt that the hibernation process and scan-grid torture have also been psychologically damaging to Captain Solo."

Leia briefly shut her eyes, as if this simple movement could block out what she had always feared.

Tuulavich waited for Leia's attention to return to her before continuing. "If Han was conscious and aware throughout the time he was encased in that shell of carbonite, he could be traumatised on an emotional and cognitive level. That's _if_. I'm not aware that he was, because he refused to go into any detail." She shook her hair and rolled her eyes at the upper bulkhead. "He brushed the whole sorry incident off as if it was a joke. And I know you're aware that it is no laughing matter."

Leia knew psychological trauma. She understood it, had lived and breathed it for four long years. Leia Organa had as intimate a relationship with psychological trauma as she had with Han Solo.

But there was a difference between what had happened to her and what Han had suffered through. Her trauma had been delivered to her in one heart-breaking instance, whereas Han had been incessantly tortured for what must have seemed like an eternity to him.

Although Leia suspected how Han might be psychologically affected, she needed to ask, "What do I should I be aware of?"

Tuulavich did not pull her punches. "PTSD: post-traumatic stress disorder. This can manifest itself in a range of means. Flashbacks. Nightmares. Insomnia. Lapses in memory. Severe anxiety. Depression."

Leia nodded woodenly at each point, ticking off every item _she_ had experienced at some time since the destruction of Alderaan. She had survived thanks to the strength and courage her adoptive parents had instilled in her, and her desire to see the Empire brought to justice. The intrinsic bond she had developed with Luke had been a blessing in helping her to overcome her grief. And Han had made her believe that she deserved to love, and to be loved. All of this had played a part in helping Leia to heal.

"It would help," Doctor Tuulavich explained, "if Solo received some form of counselling, but he is not receptive to the idea."

Leia understood Han's reticence. She had not been receptive to idea of counselling either, but she had eventually taken up the offer some months following the Battle of Yavin, but only after she had suffered a breakdown.

"I'm not surprised," Leia said. "Han thinks he's indestructible. Always has done."

"I can also prescribe medication that may relieve some symptoms, or at least help him to cope."

"We appreciate the offer, and I'll certainly recommend to Han that he comes to see you."

Doctor Tuulavich leaned forward in her seat, her face open and earnest. "Your Highness, please let me know if there is anything I can do to help. Just because we're in the middle of a war doesn't mean we should absolve our responsibility to relieve the suffering of others."

Leia smiled her gratitude. "Thank you, Doctor."

"It's Linden." Tuulavich stood and tucked her datapad under arm. "Would you like to see Han?"

Leia rose from her chair. "Thank you, yes. And please, call me Leia."

Leia was not as prepared to see Han as she thought she would be; it took her some effort to stifle the whimper that rose in her throat.

Han lay on his back, head and shoulders raised by the bed's slight incline, covered by a sheet and lightweight blanket with his arms resting on top of the covers. His face was sallower than she recalled it had been when she had left him at the medcenter only a few hours ago, though she suspected the stubble of his beard made his skin appear paler, rough and dry. His cheeks were sunken, dark marks formed half-circles under his eyes, and his lips were cracked and desiccated.

Leia took in the medical apparatus connected to Solo: the IV drip and strap that kept Han's arm restrained firmly against the side of the bed, so he could not inadvertently pull out the cannula; the nasal oxygen tube; the sensor pads dotted across his chest, abdomen and temples that relayed information to a bedside monitor.

Looking at the readout on the monitor, Leia noted that his pulse was raised and his blood pressure low. She glanced at Doctor Tuulavich who was immediately aware of her concerns.

"A resting heart rate of 110 to 120 _is_ elevated," the doctor conceded, "and his blood pressure is low, but Solo is severely dehydrated and he's already improved since we put him on the IV. His temperature has already decreased to 37.5 degrees, and I expect to see his pulse and BP back towards normal within the next few hours."

Leia nodded her understanding as she kept her gaze on Han.

Tuulavich continued with her explanation. "The IV is for sedation, rehydration and to restore the balance of his electrolytes. There's also a mild analgesic for pain-relief, just to ensure the sedative can do its work and keep him under."

Apart from the display on the analytical monitor, the slight rise and fall of Solo's chest was the only indication he was alive. It was almost as if he was frozen solid. Leia shivered away that maudlin thought.

Not for the first time, Leia dared to imagine what it had been like for Han, trapped inside the carbonite. Part of her had wanted to ask him, had wanted to share his pain, ease the burden. While another part couldn't contemplate the horror. It had been bad enough watching as Vader tortured Han on the scan grid. Bad enough watching Han lowered into the carbon-freezing pit. Bad enough knowing how agonising the carbonite flash-freezing process would have been for him.

_Bad…_

The word was so totally inadequate to describe what he must have endured. Leia could only hope that any post-traumatic stress Han might suffer would be limited to the nightmares that had so far plagued his recovery.

Tuulavich suddenly interrupted Leia's contemplation. "You're welcome to visit Solo whenever you want and to stay as long as you wish. I'll let you know when I decide to cease the sedation, so you can be there when he wakes up."

Leia turned to the doctor and briefly smiled before her comlink shrilled annoyingly in her pocket. With her gaze focused solely on Han, Leia swiped the comlink to her mouth without bothering to see who was calling. "Organa."

"Leia? It's Carlist. Where the hell are you?"

Leia stared blankly at the comlink's display panel. General Rieekan was paging her.

"Carlist? I'm…" Leia cast a guilty glance towards Han. "I'm attending to personal business."

Tuulavich nodded her head at Leia and discretely stepped through the translucent privacy screen.

"Well get your ass back to ops as soon as you can." Although Rieekan's tone was light-hearted, Leia easily discerned a hint of annoyance. "There's some busy people up here who want to talk to you."

Leia bristled. "Are these the same busy people who _conveniently_ forgot about me?" she asked, her irritation more than evident.

There was a pause before Rieekan's voice continued at a quieter level, as though he was trying to keep his call to her as private as he could in an open area. "Leia, you shouldn't have just walked off without telling someone. You know your judgement and intentions have been called into question."

"I realise that, Carlist." Leia held her jaw tightly to keep her voice as level as she could. "I just had better things to do than to sit around and wait to be humiliated again."

Rieekan was silent and Leia used the moment to gently caress the hair from Han's forehead, using her love for him as effort to keep her temper in check.

"Point taken," Rieekan replied over the comlink, then added. "_Where_ are you?"

Leia's hand drifted down past a sensor pad on Han's temple and she placed her the tips of her fingers against the dry skin of his cheek.

"Medcenter."

"How is Solo?"

Leia shook her head to herself. There was no point trying to be discrete around Carlist Rieekan.

"He's better than could be expected."

There was another pause before the general told her, "Leia, I'll do what I can to keep them off your back for a while. But I don't think they'll take too kindly if they have to come looking for you. And if they find you in the medcenter with Solo…"

The princess sighed openly. "I understand, Carlist. I'm on my way."

"I didn't—"

"Don't worry, there's nothing I can do here anyway. I'll see you shortly."

"All right, then." Rieekan's levity appeared to have returned. "Give Solo a kiss from me. I have certainly missed him."

Leia smiled remorsefully at the remark. It was an understatement as far as Leia was concerned. And Rieekan was probably one of the few in the upper echelons of the Alliance who felt that way about Solo.

"I'll give him two."

"Yes, well." Rieekan cleared his throat. "There's no need to get carried away, Leia."

"It's the furthest thing from my mind," Leia replied. "Organa out."

_Will it always be like this?_ Leia wondered, as her fingers traced around the edge of Han's face. The Rebellion hauling her in once direction while her devotion to Han pulled her in the other.

She pressed her mouth against his slack lips, then whispered in his ear, "Love you, nerf herder. Sleep well."

Leia gave her lover a final, wistful look before she turned and left his side.


	5. Chapter 5

**Waking Up**

**by CorellianBlue**

_(first published 2002, revised 2016 and 2020)_

**V**

_Perfect hibernation._

Lando Calrissian was convinced those words would be carved into his tombstone if Leia had anything to do with it.

Encasing Solo in carbonite was never going to be a _perfect hibernation_, but that's what Calrissian had called it anyway. Leant down against the effigy of his one-time friend and declared Han's state was a perfect hibernation. At the time, he'd been grasping for any hope he could give to the princess and Chewbacca—perhaps even himself—that Han would survive. Small miracle that he had. At the time, Calrissian had been grateful.

But would it have been preferable—simpler, quicker—if Han hadn't survived the flashed-freezing process? They would be ten months on from that horrific moment if it had happened.

Ten months to mourn and recover.

Ten months of not chasing a bounty hunter around the Outer Rim.

Ten months Han wouldn't have had to suffer sensory deprivation and gods-knew-what-else.

And now that Han had returned—_defrosted_ probably closer to the truth, Calrissian thought bleakly—would the result be a better or worse fate than dying? Lando may not have been the most emotional man there was, but he was a realist.

Calrissian stared at the man in the medcenter bed and wondered just how much the carbonite had damaged him. Laying there, sedated, Han looked like he was asleep. But Calrissian knew how ill Solo had been on the flight out of Tatooine: the hallucinations, the nightmares, the acid-stench of vomit and carbonite that permeated the ship. It was unlikely they'd ever be able remove the smell from the _Falcon_. With repairs and maintenance completed on the YT-1300 freighter, Lando wanted to ignore Chewie's protestations and get in sanitation droids to disinfect the entire ship, top to bottom.

The Wookiee was fussing over Solo, checking his vital signs on the display, adjusting the bed covers around his sleeping form, smoothing the hair from his forehead, all the while holding onto his friend's hand as Chewbacca went through a checklist of repairs that he and Lando had undertaken on the _Falcon_. The sedated Solo was oblivious to what Chewbacca was telling him, but the Wookiee appeared to take some comfort in maintaining a one-way conversation.

The depth of friendship that existed between the Wookiee and the Corellian had always intrigued Calrissian, none more so than now. It extended far beyond the Life Debt Chewbacca owed Solo. There was a genuine affection and companionship between the two smugglers that Calrissian could only dream about having with another being.

Chewbacca stopped his monologue to Solo and suggested out the corner of his mouth, [Why don't you sit down, Calrissian. You're making the place look untidy.]

Lando shuffled his feet, folded and re-folded his arms across his chest. Medcenters made him uncomfortable at the best of times; knowing that he was responsible for Han being there had made him even pricklier.

"I'm fine. Happy to stand," Lando replied, feeling like an intruder as Chewbacca continued listing the different systems they had repaired on the _Falcon_. "How much longer are they going to continue with the sedation? I assume Han's getting better."

Chewbacca stopped again and glanced at Calrissian. [That's right. This is your first visit.]

Lando squirmed. He was here because they had completed as much maintenance on the _Falcon_ as they could without commencing a major overhaul of the hyperdrive, and Chewbacca had insisted that Calrissian should accompany him on a visit. Lando was at a loose end, still anxiously awaiting advice on whether he would be officially accepted into the Alliance. He was also here because he'd been plagued by an overwhelming sense of guilt.

[Han's vital signs are within normal range and stable,] Chewbacca explained. [The rehydration has been successful, and his electrolytes are back in balance. I believe the doctor is continuing with the sedation to ensure Han is sufficiently rested. It shouldn't be too much longer before they bring him out of it. It's been nearly 60 hours.]

Lando softly whistled. "That's a long sleep."

[Not as long as a year in carbonite,] the Wookiee muttered.

Lando grimaced and looked down at his boots. "Um…yeah…"

The comlink in Calrissian's jacket pocket chose that moment to gently vibrate and it was with some relief that he retrieved it. General Rieekan's name shone on the display.

"General Rieekan," Lando said smoothly, turning his back on the Wookiee and Solo, "to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Rieekan made a noise that was half-snicker/half-grunt. "Your background checks out, Calrissian, and we can grant you a security clearance. Congratulations. You're welcome to join the Alliance to Restore the Republic."

"Yes!" Lando whooped, then ducked his head in response to an angry growl from Chewbacca. Calrissian slipped out through the privacy screen and found a quiet corner of the ward to continue his conversation.

"Thank you, General. I greatly appreciate this."

This time, Rieekan did make a grunt. "Yes, well, I hope you don't regret your words."

Despite his excitement, Calrissian couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. He may not have been part of the Alliance when it taken on the Empire and its first Death Star at the Battle of Yavin, but he had no delusions about what was to happen in the coming days.

Pushing his concerns from his mind, Calrissian focused on the positive. "So, what's the next step?"

"Report to the flightline," Rieekan told him, "and ask for Commander Wedge Antilles. He's expecting you. I want to find out if you're as good a pilot as you claim you to be."

"Sure thing, not a problem."

Rieekan huffed on the end of the line, suggested, "Next time, you might like to try, 'Yes, sir, General'"

Calrissian paused, attempting to detect humour in Rieekan's comment, before he quickly responded with "Yes, sir, General."

"That's better. You were starting to sound a bit too much like Solo."

This time, Lando could hear the brevity. "We can't have that," he agreed.

"And when you see Solo," Rieekan said, "tell him I expect him to report to me as soon as he's back on his feet."

Lando smiled to himself. "General, I think that might be better coming from Leia. I'm sure she has more sway over Han than I ever will."

Rieekan's deep chuckle crackled over the comlink. "Thank you for the confirmation, Calrissian. I suspected as much."

"Have I said something I shouldn't have said?" Calrissian wondered aloud, more to himself than to Rieekan.

"Don't worry. Their secret is safe with me."

Calrissian frowned at his comlink. "I better head off for that flight exam before I say anything else."

"And then report back to me with Antilles so we can go over the results."

"Yes, sir."

"Nice touch, Calrissian. Rieekan out."

Calrissian released his breath in an exaggerated gush. After what had seemed an agonising delay, he was finally going to join the Rebels. With any luck, his piloting skills would be acknowledged along with his leadership ability and they might offer him a squadron commander position.

He only hoped that the uniform came with a cape. And if not, then perhaps it was time to introduce the Alliance to a bit of Calrissian flair.


	6. Chapter 6

**Waking Up**

**by CorellianBlue**

_(first published 2002, revised 2016 and 2020)_

**VI**

Not for the first time, Leia Organa was grateful that the Alderaanian general, Carlist Rieekan, was her friend as well as her mentor. Ostensibly, Leia had been assigned as an administrative officer to General Rieekan in his role as Sector Force Commander, a significant reduction from the principal staff officer position she had previously held.

However, Rieekan had effectively made Leia his chief of staff: the gatekeeper for anyone wanting to engage with the general. This ensured that Leia was a primary participant in all meetings Rieekan conducted with his subordinates, colleagues and superiors, as well as intimately involving her in the planning for the upcoming assault on the Empire.

But as she'd anticipated, Leia had been demoted two levels down to the rank of major.

_Major Organa…_The title sounded like the name of newly discovered star. A star was the last thing Leia felt she was like.

To outward appearances, Leia was exactly what the Alliance High Command wanted her to be: an assistant to General Rieekan. But for those who knew either Rieekan or the princess, or for those who cared to look below the surface, Leia held a significant and vital position in the ops center, particularly as Sector Force Commanders would soon be receiving encrypted signals directing them to rendezvous at Sullust before they pushed on to face the Empire.

Leia had settled effortlessly into her new role. She was a natural organiser and administrator, and her deep knowledge of military operations she had gained during her time with the Alliance held her in good stead.

But although she was an adept multi-tasker and could focus on a range of issues simultaneously, there was a niggling at the back of Leia's mind that threatened to distract her—an itch that needed to be scratched: when was Han going to wake up and when would she be finally able to see him?

Doctor Tuulavich had called the princess more than nine hours ago—at the beginning of Leia's workshift—and informed her that Han had been taken off sedation and it was just a matter of time before he woke up.

Leia glanced impatiently at her wrist chrono for what had to be the tenth time in as many minutes. Her shift was due to finish within the hour, so theoretically she would be able to excuse herself and head to the medcenter, hopefully before Han was conscious. Her reality was slightly different.

There was a massive logistics and communications report that she had promised Rieekan she would finish before she departed, and with events rapidly drawing to a head Leia felt compelled and obligated to complete it as quickly as she could. But she was annoyed with herself that her concern for her lover was slowing her down and consequently delaying her from seeing him.

General Rieekan's head suddenly appeared over the top of Leia's screen display. Leaning his elbows on the top of a partition, a datapad held loosely in his hands, Rieekan's expression briefly showed fatherly concern, until he was distracted by something else on the datapad.

"What are you still doing here?" the Alderaanian general asked as he continued scrutinising the datapad's screen. "I thought you'd left hours ago."

Leia arched a weary brow and rubbed a finger into the corner of a red-rimmed eye. "I'm working on that log and comms summary you wanted."

"Hmm, what?" Rieekan muttered. "What was that?"

"The log and comms report." Leia deliberately emphasised each word. "You asked me to finish it before I left."

"Hmm?" Rieekan thoughtfully tapped a finger against his lips as he remained focused on the datapad. "I thought you were leaving to see Solo."

Restraining her irritated sigh as much as she could, Leia rested her forearms against the desk. "You told me to finish the report _before_ I went to see Han."

Rieekan glanced at Leia before resuming his perusal of the datapad. "Didn't you say they were ceasing Solo's sedation?"

"That was nine hours ago."

Rieekan's attention finally returned to Leia, his eyes widening in disbelief. "What the hell are you still doing here? You're not indispensable. And don't roll your eyes at me like that," he chided. "You remind me of Bail."

The comment softened Leia's chagrin. She knew Carlist had a lot on his mind. Everyone in the ops center and throughout the rest of the Alliance Fleet had a lot on their minds. It was only adrenaline and a few hours of sleep that she had managed to sneak in at the end of each shift which kept the her going. That, and her desire to see Han awake and healthy again, and to spend some time alone with him, hopefully in her cabin.

"Are you leaving?" General Rieekan's question sounded suspiciously like an order.

Leia browsed through the work on her screen, before saving the file and logging off.

"Yes, sir," she half-heartedly responded.

"Good." Rieekan pushed himself away from partition. "I'll see you at the beginning of your next shift."

Rieekan turned his head as if to leave, before halting his departure. He resumed his position against the partition and gave Leia an ingratiating smile. "And can you have that log and comms summary ready for me first thing like you promised?"

Leia momentarily panicked. She stared at the terminal and worried about how she could do two things at once, be in two places at the same time. Then she heard Rieekan's snicker and she glanced up to see him smirking at her. She replayed his request in her mind, this time detecting his mischievous tone.

"I was teasing," Rieekan told her apologetically. "Go on. You'll be late."


	7. Chapter 7

**Waking Up**

**by CorellianBlue**

_(first published 2002, revised 2016 and 2020)_

**VII**

He couldn't move.

Couldn't see.

Couldn't breathe.

Unrelenting darkness, gripping his body until he screamed in agony.

Silently screaming, as he couldn't make a sound.

Torment tearing and raking at his mind until it felt raw and bloody and useless…

Below the pain, a wind roared and howled; reverberating through his ears; echoing around what was left of his mind; a dizzying rush of nausea and despair.

The bitter, metallic taste in his mouth reminded him where he was.

Carbonite.

_Nononononononononononono—_

This wasn't happening. This was a dream. Nightmare.

He'd been freed. Rescued!

Leia had released him from the carbonite and he had awoken in her arms.

_Leialeialeialeia—_

If he was still trapped, that meant Leia was still in danger.

Memories crashed through him at such speed he had trouble comprehending any of them, until his thoughts slammed up hard against the one threatening figure he did remember—Vader.

_Leialeialeialeia—_

Han struggled so violently to escape—from both the carbonite and his nightmare—that he would have pitched himself onto the floor had it not been for the medical bunk's protective side barriers.

The sudden shock of consciousness hit him with the same force as a well-timed blow to the jaw. A hoarse cry of alarm rasped from his throat as he fought to separate sleep from awareness. Then the terrifying visions from his nightmare came rushing back.

Vader.

Night.

Vader.

Pain.

Vader Vader Vader…

The deluge heightened his panic and a surge of adrenaline overwhelmed his fragile nervous system. His eyes screwed shut and he slumped back against the bed.

The pulse pounding in his ears, Han rode the confusing, horrifying mess of memories and emotions for long, agonising minutes, minutes that seemed to stretch into hours.

Somehow his mind latched onto a single thought that had helped him survive in the past: _I'm alive._

His nose twitched.

An annoying pressure pinched at his nostrils, air trickling through his nasal passages. He focused on the discomfort, used it to pull himself out of the darkness and away from the terror.

Han's eyes flickered open and he groggily took in his surrounds. He was on a bunk, in a medical center if the equipment located nearby was anything to go by. A display monitor showed a pulse rate, respiration and blood pressure in numerical and graphical form, detailing current elevated levels, and a subdued history over the past five minutes.

His gaze tracked clumsily back from the read-outs to the sensor pads dotted across his bare chest and abdomen. He re-read the screen, realised the vital signs on display were his when he saw his name titling the results: _Solo (Captain), Han_.

He scraped the irritating nasal catheter from his nostrils, brushing the tube from the side of his face; an alarm softly beeped, warning against his actions. A translucent privacy screen had been activated in the area around the medical bunk and through it he could hear muffled sounds, though not clear enough that he could discern exactly where he was.

Nobody seemed to be rushing in to take care of the alarm, so he tried sitting up, until a wooziness forced him back onto his elbows.

_Medcenter, medcenter, medcenter, _he repeated to himself as he tried to will away the vertigo by concentrating on his survival. _Imperial? Alliance? Somewhere else?_

He could feel the vibration of a ship's hull as it sat idling in real space.

_Medcenter on a ship. Not restrained. Not Imperial._

He had a vague memory that the last person he'd been talking to was Chewie, but the Wookiee was nowhere to be seen. His anxiety levels sparked as he wondered about Chewbacca's safety.

And then he remembered the most important thing he had forgot: _Leia!_

His sudden concern for Leia woke up the rest of his body and he became acutely aware of his physical senses.

Lethargy clung to him like a heavy blanket.

Dull, persistent ache in his bones and muscles.

Fuzziness in his head, as if he had overslept or hadn't slept enough.

His throat dry, scratchy; his tongue thick and clumsy in his mouth.

A discomfort further down his body caused Han to wonder _why_ he had been admitted to a medcenter. The twinge centered on his groin and he ventured a hand downwards. There was a stiffness, and not the kind that he was usually eager to welcome. It was uncomfortable, and he felt the onset of the need to relieve himself. A distant memory of a urinary tract infection suggested that when he eventually made it to the 'fresher, it would be painful to pass urine. Painful, but not enough to admit him into a medcenter.

_What the hell has happened to me?_

A young woman unexpectedly pushed her way through the privacy screen in a rush of freckles and brilliant green eyes. She was wearing the uniform of an Alliance medical assistant. Han quickly removed his hand from his groin like a teenager caught experimenting in a refresher cubicle.

"It's good to see you finally awake, Captain Solo," she told him. She tilted her head and nodded towards the gently chiming alarm coming from the display monitor. "And I see you've already managed to remove the nasal catheter."

Han considered shrugging but suspected it would take too much effort. He tried sitting up again. The medic swiped a hand to turn off the alarm, then moved to his side and helped him up, adjusting the head of the bed to support him. Once he was upright and leaning back into the steep incline of the bed, she swung a small tray out from the side of the bunk and placed a beaker of water on it.

"I imagine you'd like a drink."

Han unsuccessfully tried expressing his thanks, but only a strangled croak came out. When he didn't take the container from the tray, she pushed it into his hand.

"Drink up, Captain. I'll get Doctor Tuulavich for you."

He took a sip of the water and it relieved some of the tightness from his throat. He gulped down most of it before pushing the beaker back onto the tray.

_Tuulavich._ The name was familiar to him and it rattled around in his dazed mind for a minute before he was able to slot pieces into the puzzle that was his memory.

He recalled his rescue from the carbonite.

Being horribly ill on the flight from Tatooine.

A physical examination in the medical center onboard an Alliance cruiser.

Chewie had been there with him, holding a bowl for him so he could vomit into it.

His sight had been blurry, affected by ophthalmic drops the doctor had used to examine his eyes.

The doctor—Tuulavich—had returned just as he had been trying to convince Chewie that he'd been more comfortable back in his bunk onboard the _Falcon_.

And then there was a blank.

_Leia. Where the hell is Leia?_

He couldn't clearly recall the last time he had seen her. She'd been with him on the _Falcon_ and he had a feeling she had come with him to the medcenter, but he wasn't entirely confident that she had _actually_ come with him, or if it was wishful thinking. Or a hallucination.

Han stared at the strip of synthflesh masking the crook of his elbow. That was new. He hadn't had _that_ when he'd undergone the exam in the medcenter. At least, he didn't think he'd had a wound on his arm that had been repaired with synthflesh.

He closed his eyes and focused on staying upright. The constriction in his chest tightened and the pulse flicked in the base of his neck.

Nothing made sense.

Even his reaction to his confusion was confusing. He felt edgy, as if there was an unseen adversary on his trail. At the same time, he also felt tired, hollow, prepared to roll over and give in.

Han looked around the corner of the medcenter he'd been placed in, with only the medical equipment to keep him company. It almost felt as if the Alliance was moving around him, getting on with the war against the Empire, while he'd been shunted off to one side lest he got in the way.

He felt like an afterthought. A cast-off. Like he'd been eaten up, swallowed and spat out again.

And then he pinpointed an emotion he hadn't acknowledged in years and it made him sway almost as much as the vertigo.

Alone. He felt alone.


	8. Chapter 8

**Waking Up**

**by CorellianBlue**

_(first published 2002, revised 2016 and 2020)_

**VIII**

"I was just about to call you, ma'am."

The young medic—Stacel, Leia quickly recalled— stopped the princess almost as soon as she entered the medcenter.

"Captain Solo is awake."

"For long?" Leia asked as she continued towards Han's bed.

"We estimate about ten minutes. As you know, we've been monitoring Captain Solo's brain activity to anticipate when he became fully conscious. However, it appears he awoke more quickly than we predicted."

"Didn't you cease sedation over nine hours ago?"

"Doctor Tuulavich expected it would take around eight to ten hours for Captain Solo to wake up once the IV was stopped. What she didn't expect was for him go from a state of unconsciousness to being fully awake so quickly. He had a brief period of REM sleep, probably no more than two minutes, and then he was awake."

"I see," Leia replied, but as she had only a rudimentary understanding of brain activity, she didn't really understand exactly what the medic said.

"You can see the captain now," the medic offered, which was just as well because Leia had already decided no one had better stand in her way. "Doctor Tuulavich will be with you shortly."

Han was sitting up on one side of the bed, his legs hanging over the edge as if he had been preparing to stand, naked save for the sheet swaddling his groin and upper thighs. He was staring and picking at the sensor pads on his chest, trying to remove them. He had already removed the pads from his temples, the circular pressure marks on his skin the only indication that they had once been there.

Leia said his name and Han looked up. A wobbly half-smile touched the corner of his lips but did not reach his eyes. Barely a whisper came from his mouth as he tried to say her name in reply.

In four steps she was by his side and she slipped her arms around him. The height of the medbunk had been set low, so his head was at the same level as Leia's, and she kissed the side of his cheek as she pulled him closer.

Leia held onto him as if she would never let him go, opening her senses and absorbing everything about him: the scrape of the stubble on his jaw and cheeks; the touch of his hair against hers; the heat and texture of his skin; the definition of his bones and muscles; the way his chest expanded and contracted as he breathed; the scent of him. All so wonderfully good and right and familiar.

For a moment, Han returned all the love and strength in her embrace. Then he crumbled. His breathing became shallow, his arms slipped down to her waist and he lowered his forehead to her shoulder, burying his face into her uniform shirt. Wondering if he was still a bit dozy from the sedative, Leia slid her fingers up the back of his neck, through his hair, and closely held him.

"Lei...-a." His voice broke on the syllables as he struggled to say her name.

She felt him tremble, found the strength to hold him tighter.

"Excuse me." Doctor Tuulavich's voice gently penetrated the lovers' embrace.

Slowly, grudgingly, Leia relaxed her tight hold on Han. She left an arm around his back, her fingers feathering his hair as she continued stroking his neck. Han kept his face pressed between her shoulder and the top of her chest, unwilling or unable to let her go.

She whispered into his ear, "Han. Han." She took half a step back to encourage him to loosen his hold. "The doctor is here, Sweetheart."

Han hesitantly raised his head, eyes tired and glassy, hair awry. Leia pressed a short kiss to his lips, tried to ignore the medicinal odour on his breath, and smiled at him reassuringly.

Han sat upright as Leia removed her arms from around him and stepped to one side, not before taking his hand and lacing her fingers through his. It was curious that he seemed unperturbed by the doctor observing him, particularly when he was in such a weak state, but she put that down to the after-effects of the sedation.

Leia turned to acknowledge the physician. "Hello, Linden."

Doctor Tuulavich politely inclined her head. "Your Highness."

Despite Leia's best efforts, the doctor still doggedly refused to call her by her first name.

"It's good to see you again."

"And you." The doctor smiled amiably at Han. "Good morning, Captain Solo." She cast a cursory inspection across the Corellian as he consciously straightened his shoulders and held his head up. "You're looking a lot better than the last time we spoke."

The harsh sound of a consonant stuck in Han's throat and it took him three attempts and a series of growls before he croaked out, "D-doc."

Tuulavich considered the readouts from the vital signs monitor while Han cleared his throat again.

"Wha-…-ell…me?" Han's voice was rough and stilted.

Tuulavich gave him a cursory, almost embarrassed, glance. Almost, but not quite. "I had you placed under sedation for about sixty hours."

Han blanched. "Six-ee?"

Leia squeezed his fingers.

"And you've spent the last nine hours or so asleep under your own steam."

Frowning and striving to keep up, Han's voice squeaked as he asked, "N-ine…wha-?"

"Your body needed the time to heal itself and as you weren't prepared to co-operate, I decided you needed some help." She filled the water beaker that he'd left on the bedside tray and handed it to him. "Have a drink and see if that helps with your throat."

Han drained the container and Tuulavich refilled it for him as she explained, "You're just not used to talking." She glanced at Leia and added, "Is that a good thing, or a bad thing, Your Highness?"

Leia smirked, warily shook her head. "Oh, you can leave me out this for now. I'm just glad to have Han back."

Doctor Tuulavich nodded at the display monitor. "Your vitals look good. Stable. Apart from that hiccup when you first woke up, but that's understandable. Looks like you were a bit confused as to where you were, correct?" Tilting her head as she carefully considered Han, she asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Li-ke…run…o-ver…by…spee-der."

Tuulavich's smile was motherly. "I can only imagine. Have another drink"

Han took a quick gulp.

"All of it," the doctor ordered.

His face twitched, but he emptied the beaker without disputing the direction. He placed the beaker back on the tray and the doctor refilled it.

Remarkably, Han did not flinch away when the doctor cupped his chin with a thumb and forefinger, but the grip he had on Leia's fingers tightened.

Tuulavich hummed to herself as she examined his eyes through an optical device that shone a fine light into his pupils. She seemed satisfied with what she did or didn't find and told him, "All clear on the eyes. No damage. I think you've been very lucky, Captain Solo."

"St-ory…my…life," he agreed as he looked at the princess.

Leia beamed back at him.

"Can you stand up and perhaps walk a few steps?" the doctor asked.

Han's expression suggested he was vaguely affronted by her suggestion about his ability to walk, but he released Leia's grasp, placed his hands on the edge of the bed, rested his feet on the floor and rocked forward slightly as if to stand up—before his face paled and he bunched the sheet around his waist.

Tuulavich folded her arms across her chest and pursed her lips in amusement. "It's nothing I haven't seen before, Solo."

Han's eyes sought out Leia's for support.

"And I'm certain the princess agrees with me," Tuulavich continued.

Leia tensed her lips to refrain a smirk. "Perhaps you should listen to the doctor," she impishly suggested.

Han frowned at both women, but any resistance he had quickly dissolved into resignation. Using the medbunk for support, he gingerly placed his weight on his feet, pushed the sheet from his lap and stood up. Almost immediately his knees buckled, and he dipped a few centimetres before catching himself on the bed. Leia instinctively reached for his bicep, but he shook away her proffered assistance as he locked his knees.

"'M okay," he grumbled.

Smiling at the tetchiness in his tone, Leia stepped back to give him some room. Although she appreciated seeing Han naked and enjoyed the strong lines of his body, she could only watch him with protective concern.

Muscles quivering and scowling at the effort, Han pushed away from the bed again and stood on his own, before shuffling a few steps forward, stiffly turning around and then moving back with more ease. The relief on his face was evident as he cautiously lowered himself back onto the bunk.

"No problem," Han said, his voice now stronger, even if his legs were not.

"Obviously," Tuulavich agreed. "I'm confident it's just from lack of use." She walked around the medbunk and opened a drawer under the display monitor. "I want you to do some light exercise, such as walking, even if you don't feel like it. That should help you get over the stiffness and soreness you're no doubt feeling." She retrieved an infuser and two vials of medication, loading one of the vials into the infuser as she moved back towards him. "Muscle stimulant. To help get you moving and to combat any atrophy you've suffered."

Han only grimaced as Tuulavich wiped a disinfectant pad across his skin before injecting a vial of the stimulant into each of his quad muscles.

"Flex your muscles to get that circulating," the doctor told him as she returned the infuser to the drawer.

Han complied with the instruction, wincing as he alternately tightened and relaxed his quad, hamstring and calf muscles.

"Any nausea?"

He shook his head.

"Good. You can start eating again. Light meals at first, nothing too rich or too spicy. But I want to see you eat something before I discharge you. There's a clear soup on the medcenter menu, so I'll arrange to get a bowl of that for you." Tuulavich turned to the princess. "Have you come here straight from Ops, Your Highness? Would you like a bowl as well?"

"Yes, thank you," Leia replied, thinking that Han might be more inclined to co-operate if she had a meal with him. "That's very thoughtful of you."

The doctor's attention returned to her patient.

"You'll need to keep up your fluids to ensure you remain sufficiently hydrated. No alcohol under any circumstances for at least the next ten days. Understood?"

Han nodded.

"Have another drink."

He rolled his eyes but collected the water beaker and drank again.

"Any other issues you wish to raise?" Tuulavich asked, glancing casually towards his lap.

Han stopped drinking mid-gulp, pulled the sheet back across his groin and shook his head.

The doctor raised her chin. "You had a urinary catheter inserted while you were sedated," she explained as he pointedly kept his gaze locked on hers. "You'll probably experience a bit of discomfort for the next few days. Some tenderness. Burning when you pass urine."

Leia watched intently as Han swallowed, his larynx moving in his throat, but he said nothing and finished off the rest of the water.

"I'll arrange to get you an anti-inflammatory gel to provide some relief," Tuulavich offered.

He raised a shoulder in a half-shrug, as if he didn't have anything to add to the matter.

The doctor returned to his side, bent so she was at eye level with him and placed a finger to his temple. "And how do you feel in here?"

Han pulled away from the doctor's touch, and Leia could sense the tension between them increase.

"Fine," he told the doctor evenly, then looked down at the water beaker he held.

Leia wanted to take his hand again but knew neither Han nor Tuulavich would welcome the interruption or the supportive gesture.

The doctor took the beaker from him and returned it to the tray, leaving him with nothing to stare at.

"I don't know if you recall our previous conversation," Tuulavich began as she moved away from him to encourage him to re-establish eye contact, "about how you might react to everything that has happened to you, Han. You might have trouble sleeping. Experience nightmares and flashbacks. At times you'll feel confused. Anxious. Disconnected. A bit…" The doctor considered her words carefully before continuing, "…sad. These are all perfectly normal reactions for anyone who has experienced a significant amount of trauma such as yourself."

"I'm fine," Han said, his gaze still averted.

Leia's gut twisted into a knot and an accompanying twinge settled in her chest.

Doctor Tuulavich ploughed on regardless. "If at any time you feel like you can't cope, come back and see me."

Eyes focused on his hands, Han said nothing.

Tuulavich exhaled heavily and looked at the princess, raising her eyebrows as if suggesting she could do no more.

"Would you like a refresher before you leave?" Tuulavich asked him. "The staff have been keeping you clean over the past days, but there's nothing like a 'fresher to wake you up, even if it is only sonics. That should also get your muscles moving again."

Gaze still averted, his response was quiet, detached. "Sure."

"I'll get you a robe, so you don't have to walk around the ward naked," Tuulavich told him.

Doctor Tuulavich departed the bed area and Leia moved back to Han's side. She gently brushed the unruly hair from his forehead, and he looked up at her. The heel of his hands rubbed at his thighs where the muscle stimulant had been injected, and she wondered if it hurt or itched.

"I missed you," she told him.

Her admission made him stop kneading his quads. "I didn't know where you were," he said softly. "You scared me."

Leia winced at the mild reproach in his tone and admission of vulnerability. "I'm sorry. I haven't been far, and I've been visiting since you were admitted. I did try to get here before you woke up, but Rieekan…" She touched his cheek. There was something going on in his eyes that she couldn't quite read. "I'm here now."

She was startled by his near-crushing embrace as he hugged her against his chest. The love and desperation in his hold overwhelmed her and she sniffed, striving to keep tears from rolling down her cheeks. Knowing she couldn't let go—couldn't _afford_ to let go—of either herself or the man she loved, Leia closed her eyes and held him.

Gradually, they loosened their hold on each other, pulling back until their eyes met and they shared a slow, tender kiss that spoke more of love than passion.

When they parted again, Leia caressed Han's cheek and asked, "Are you sure you're all right?"

He nodded, fleetingly closed his eyes and swallowed before adding, "Are you?"

"Couldn't be better," she smiled.

"Good."

His attention seemed to wander as his glanced moved around the room. When his eyes returned to hers, his gaze seemed troubled. "I need to see Chewie."

Leia knew it would be normal for Han to want to see his best friend; concerned for and no doubt missing the Wookiee. But she had wanted to keep Han all to herself for at least their first few hours together.

"Chewie's been worried about you," Leia reassured him. "Why don't we see him in a few hours? For now, let's concentrate on getting you out of here."

"I need to see Chewie," Han insisted. "You don't need to come with me. I'll go on my own."

Leia frowned at his response, rubbed her palms across his shoulders in what she hoped was a soothing gesture.

"Sure," she agreed, "we'll go see Chewie." He began to stand but the firm pressure from her hands forced him to sit again. "Just wait for Linden to get you a robe, then you can have a 'fresher, something to eat and we'll go see Chewie after that. How does that sound?"

She watched his face as he processed the steps she had laid out. He looked like he wasn't convinced, but he warily replied, "Okay."

Leia leaned forward and kissed his cheek, before adding, "I love you."

The smile he returned was perhaps shakier than she had hoped, but his response was what she had been waiting for. Waiting for over a year.

"I love you too."


	9. Chapter 9

**Waking Up**

**by CorellianBlue**

_(first published 2002, revised 2016 and 2020)_

**IX**

Han's bladder was nearly bursting by the time he was standing over the sani unit in the 'fresher, and he winced in a combination of satisfaction and pain as he released himself into the bowl. His urine felt like molten lava and he involuntarily stopped mid-stream, before gathering up the courage to continue. The relief to have finally finished left him softly whimpering and feeling wretched.

When he felt like he could walk again without unnecessarily jarring himself, Han discarded the robe and stepped into the refresher's small sonic stall. He didn't have too much trouble staying upright in the stall, only once swaying into the wall.

Try as he may to allow the massaging qualities of the sonics to relax him, Solo still felt uneasy. He was looking forward to seeing Chewie, but felt restless, agitated. Hopefully once he caught up with his Wookiee friend and checked out the state of the _Falcon_, he could unwind a bit. Or perhaps that wouldn't happen until Luke had returned to the Alliance fleet, when the three people in the galaxy that meant the most to him were alive and well and with him.

The vibrations from the sonics quickly irked Han and he swiped it off before it had completed its cycle. He felt clean but checked by raising each arm and smelling his armpits. Good enough; he could always enjoy a water 'fresher once he returned to _Falcon_.

Han moved out of the stall and across to the hand basin, collected the vibro-shaver from its recess and considered himself in the mirror which hung above the sink. He rubbed a hand across his jaw, his fingers crackling on the brown-blond stubble. The beard was patchy in places, particularly across his upper lip, and it looked only six or seven days old. The reality was he hadn't shaved for over a year, not since the last morning he had shared with Leia on Cloud City.

Han actually smiled at that memory. He and Leia had spent that previous night making love, rolling around in the ridiculously over-sized bed, ensuring they took advantage of every square centimetre of the extravagant suite after being cooped up on the _Falcon_ for nearly 40 days. He had vivid recollections of her underneath him and above him. Her gasps as he brought her to climax with his body, his lips and his tongue. The incredible feeling of being inside her. The humbling experience of being loved by her.

The time they had shared had been an unexpected heaven…that had been quickly followed by an unexpected hell. All thanks to Lando Calrissian.

Han's hand cramped and he dropped the vibro-shaver into the basin.

_Lando…_

He thought back for a moment. Lando had been part of the rescue party and he'd piloted the _Falcon_ while Han had been throwing up in the heads. That meant he was probably somewhere on the cruiser, unless he'd turned tail and run off somewhere, though how he'd do that without his own ship, Han had no idea.

Han picked up the vibro-shaver and grimly started removing the stubble from his face. It appeared he had found the source of his discomfort. He decided he needed to do something about it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Waking Up**

**by CorellianBlue**

_(first published 2002, revised 2016 and 2020)_

**X**

When they eventually departed the medical center, Leia deliberately took Han's hand in hers. He stopped her before they moved too far down the corridor.

"This is all right, is it?" he asked, indicating their joined hands with a tilt of his chin. He cast a cautious glance at a member of the cruiser's crew that skirted around them.

Now confidently standing upright, his skin freshly scrubbed by the sonics and clean-shaven, Han seemed more like his old self, more like the man she had made love to throughout the long flight to Bespin. Even the rumpled state of his hair was familiar and comforting.

Leia smirked at him. "It's all right for me," she said, her eyes widening in challenge. "Is it all right for you, flyboy?"

Han's frown was an uncharacteristic blend of curiosity and uncertainty, and Leia wondered if he was quite as ready as she was to return to the spirited banter they had wrangled in the past.

"Uh, sure," he replied. "I just…" He raised a shoulder in an apologetic shrug. "I'm fine if you need to keep this—us—on the quiet. I don't want to make things difficult for you."

Han had only ever privately shown her that he had a compassionate and considerate side; the Han she'd grown to love for nearly 40 days on the _Falcon_ had been that man. It was heartening to see he had not changed since then.

Leia squeezed his hand. "You never make things difficult for me."

Han cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. "That's not what you've told me in the past. And I guarantee sometime in the future you'll tell me just how difficult I am."

Leia placed her hands on his chest and gave him a small smile. "Perhaps. But right now, I don't care who knows that I love you." She leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth. "Okay?"

He nodded in quiet agreement, before adding, "Tell me when you change your mind."

She couldn't hold back an exasperated sigh as she collected his hand in hers. "Let's go find Chewie."

Han's grip on Leia's hand increased the closer they got to the hangar bay. At first, she had interpreted it as eagerness on his part, but she soon became aware that his palm was sweaty and the tendons in his fingers twitched spasmodically. His free hand seemed lost, clutching for the blaster that no longer sat on his right thigh.

There was also tension in his eyes, a wariness as he regarded crew members that passed by, gauging whether they were friend or foe. Leia knew his scowl well; Han had spent his first few months with the Alliance glaring at anyone and everyone, until he gradually recognised they could be trusted.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, hoping to take his mind off whatever it was obviously bothering him.

Leia almost flinched when he scowled at her. "I told you before I'm okay." His annoyance quickly dissipated and he quickly apologised, "Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm good. Fine. Great. Perfect. Best I've felt in years."

His rapid-fire response was almost as unnerving as his scowl. "That's good to know. I'm trying not to worry about you."

His response was as tight as his grip. "I never asked you to worry about me."

"But I do," she told him. "And you can't expect me to stop."

A flush of humiliation coloured his cheeks. He dropped his eyes, turning his head and released her hand.

Thinking it best to give him some space, Leia hid her disappointment and offered him reassurance instead. "We're nearly there."

He mumbled something that could've been an acknowledgement or an apology. It was hard to tell with Han at the best of times.

"I bet Chewie will be happy to see you."

His voice rose in curiosity. "Haven't seen Calrissian lately, have you?"

Leia eyed him warily. Lando had been the last person she had been keeping tabs on.

"No, not recently. I think he's waiting for clearance to join the Alliance."

He stopped in his tracks and stared at her, incredulous. "What?"

That had clearly been the wrong thing to say. "I'm not sure. I haven't seen him since we returned from Tatooine."

"Lando _wants_ to join the Alliance?" His disbelief notched up into resentment with each carefully enunciated word. "Lando wants to _join_ the Alliance? Who the _fuck_ does he think he is?"

"Hey, easy," Leia urged, a little taken aback at both his hostility and her own concern for Lando's welfare. "He just wants to make a difference."

"He didn't wanna make much of a difference on Bespin."

Leia swallowed away the constriction in her throat. It was more than a fair point. The events on Bespin were still painfully fresh in Han's mind—only days old. She had understood and appreciated the situation Lando had fallen into in his role as the Baron-Administrator of Cloud City, but it taken months of silent recriminations before she had forgiven Calrissian for his transgressions.

Knowing Han as she did, Leia could not see him changing his opinion about Lando any time soon. And she doubted there was anything she could offer that would help him on this front.

"I think you should talk to Chewie."

Han nodded grimly and started walking again. "I intend to."


	11. Chapter 11

**Waking Up**

**by CorellianBlue**

_(first published 2002, revised 2016 and 2020)_

**XI**

Chewbacca yawned and stretched as he ambled back towards the _Millennium Falcon_, his tool bag slung over one shoulder. He was looking forward to seeing his bunk and the inside of his eyelids. It had taken nearly twice as long to synchronise the Y-Wing's flight control avionics package as he had anticipated, but now that was finished, he could catch up on some much-needed sleep.

With the main systems on the _Falcon_ fully operational, Chewbacca had offered his services as a starship technician to the Rebels. Part of his routine had been to work for ten hours before spending time at Solo's side in the medcenter, then grabbing a few hours' sleep before heading back to conduct further maintenance on the Alliance starfighters.

That schedule had changed when the princess had contacted him to let him know that Solo's sedation was ceasing, and his friend would soon be awake. As that was more than ten hours ago, Chewbacca could only assume that Han was now awake and enjoying Leia's company. Although he had been eager to see the Corellian, Chewbacca had insisted that the princess should be there alone for Solo when he awoke, and that the Wookiee would see Solo after the couple had _caught up_ with each other.

Those weren't the precise words Chewbacca had used, but that was the way Leia had interpreted them. The little princess apparently needed to improve on her Shryiiwook. Chewbacca had actually suggested that she should take Solo back to her cabin and observe the mating rituals they had frequently—and loudly—undertaken on the flight to Bespin.

Despite being Solo's friend for more than a decade, Chewbacca had no idea why humans insisted on copulating when they had no intention of producing offspring. No matter how graphically Solo had tried to illustrate his point, it remained a mystery to the Wookiee.

As he neared the _Falcon's_ boarding ramp, Chewbacca rubbed a cleanser into the palms of his grimy, leathery hands and wiped the remains onto an old cloth. Amidst the sights, smells and sounds of the hangar, the Wookiee recognised Solo's distinctive scent almost as soon as the man stepped onto the deck. Chewbacca turned towards the pedestrian access way and saw his friend striding towards the _Falcon_, Leia following a few paces behind. Chewbacca dropped his tool bag and folded his arms across his chest.

When Solo was within earshot for a human, Chewbacca impudently called out, [Where the hell have you been?!]

Solo did not grin, reply in kind or make a rude hand gesture. Instead the Corellian increased his pace to a loping jog and caught the Wookiee in a fierce hug around his chest. Chewbacca returned the embrace with equal strength and warmth.

[It's good to see you finally awake, Little Brother.]

"I was sedated for 60 hours," Solo grumbled into Chewbacca's chest, "you sack of Wookiee shit." There was both gentle reproach and self-pity in his tone.

Chewbacca cuffed his friend lightly on the backside, as he would a truculent cub. [And you needed it.]

"You didn't have to help."

[Yes, I did.] Chewbacca looked across at Leia as she stood off to one-side, watching the Corellian and the Wookiee, a small smile on her lips. [Hello, Princess.]

Leia nodded in acknowledgement. "Chewie."

Solo pushed himself away from Chewbacca's hold as the Wookiee fondly pushed a hand across his friend's head. He turned and slowly examined the outside of his beloved ship.

"You better get me up to speed on what work the _Falcon_ needs before we throw this little party for the Empire," the Corellian told Chewbacca.

[No need. The _Falcon_ is fully operational.]

Solo stopped his inspection long enough to frown at Chewbacca. "What do you mean? She's always got something wrong with her."

[Not anymore. Nothing that really matters. She's fully operational.]

Solo angled his hands on his hips and raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

[Calrissian has been helping me get her into shape. We've been working on her months.]

Solo's right eyelid and cheek twitched, and his gaze slowly returned to the YT-1300 freighter.

[We had a few things to attend to after we got back from Tatooine, but they're all taken of.] Chewbacca nudged a hairy knuckle into his friend's ribs. [While you sleeping it up in the medcenter.]

"Yeah," Solo muttered, "I was having a wonderful time."

[So, she's all ready to go. Nothing for you to worry about. Nothing for you to do.]

The Corellian rubbed a hand across his eyes and gave a tepid response. "I see. Great." He cast another cursory glance over the _Falcon_, then turned back to the Wookiee. "Where's Calrissian?"

Chewbacca could easily read Solo, saw the hostility and weariness in the way his friend held himself.

[Around,] Chewbacca replied, gesturing in a vague manner. [I haven't seen him for more than 20 hours. I think he's waiting for clearance to join the Alliance.]

"Lando is most likely with one of the squadrons," Leia offered. "I understand he's offered his services as a pilot."

Solo rolled his eyes. "How come _no one_ has seen Lando and yet _everyone_ knows what he's up to?"

[He did come and see you at the medcenter,] Chewbacca pointed out.

"I bet he did," Solo replied.

The Wookiee and the princess exchanged quiet, uneasy looks.

Chewbacca was not afraid to call out his friend when he thought he was in the wrong. He needed to clarify what was going on with Solo.

[Why are you worried about Calrissian?]

Solo ran a hand across his right thigh, where his blaster usually sat. "Because I want to thank him for the hospitality he extended to us on Bespin. Why else do you think I wanna see him?"

Chewbacca heaved a grumbling sigh. [Han, please. Leave Calrissian alone. We have moved on while you were sleeping. You need to place all of that behind you. And you should be more concerned with spending your time with the princess.]

Solo raised a finger in warning. "Don't start with me, Chewie. I know what I need to do. I can take care of this."

[The princess has been studying my language over the last year,] Chewbacca explained, his gaze shifting between Leia and Han. [She understands everything I'm saying. Why don't you ask her whether you should be bothered with harassing Calrissian?]

The remark appeared to curtail Han's immediate obsession with Calrissian, and he turned towards Leia. "You've been learning Shryiiwook?"

Leia tilted her head in an abashed gesture. "A little, yes."

"You understand Chewie?"

She gave him a modest smile. "Some of what he says, but not always. I trip up when he talks too quickly, and there's many things he says that I can only get the gist of. I'm nowhere near as proficient as you."

[Ask her to take you back to her cabin and copulate with you to make you forget about killing Calrissian,] the Wookiee suggested with a _woofing_ snicker.

Solo glared at Chewbacca, then quickly turned back to Leia. "Did you understand that?"

Leia nodded, her cheeks reddening self-consciously. "Did he suggest that we should catch up in my cabin?"

Solo cast a sidelong glance at Chewbacca. "Yeah, he said something like that."

Leia linked her arm through Han's and affectionately looked up at him. "Don't you think that sounds like a good idea?"

[Go and copulate with the princess," Chewbacca encouraged, pushing at his friend's shoulder.

Solo made a _hushing_ sound at the Wookiee.

[What's wrong, Solo?] Chewbacca needled him. [That's all you ever talked about _before_ you started copulating with her. Why don't you want to talk about copulating with her now?]

Solo glared at the Wookie. His response was more exasperated than angry. "Chewie…"

Leia looked curiously at the two smugglers. Her smile was hesitant, suggesting she _thought_ she knew what they were talking about, but her eyes revealed she was not entirely sure.

[All the two of you did between Hoth and Bespin was copulate. You weren't exactly quiet about it. Wookiees have far more sophisticated hearing than humans.] Chewbacca raised his hands to the sides of his head to illustrate his point. [I spent most of the time with my fingers in my ears. Do you know how impossible it is to get anything done when you have your fingers in your ears?]

Solo yanked Chewbacca's hands down from his head.

[I was like that for nearly a month! A month! And yet I could hardly get any sleep during that time. What's worse, the only company I had to talk to was that blasted droid, while you two copulated your way through the ship.] Chewbacca didn't even attempt to refrain his glee as he rapidly relayed his memory of the flight to Bespin. [I tried so hard to find a place where the two of you hadn't been. Do you know what human hormones smell like to a Wookiee? Do you? Though it probably wouldn't have mattered where I'd been. I could've been locked away in the smuggling compartments and I still would've been able to hear and smell the two of you carrying on like rutting vornskr. You didn't do it in the smuggling compartments, did you? Tell me you didn't do it in the smuggling compartments.]

"Come on." Solo grabbed Leia's arm and pushed her toward the pedestrian access way.

Leia stumbled and Solo took a moment to set her upright.

Perplexed, Leia asked him, "Where are we going?"

"Away from this smart ass," Solo growled.

"But I thought you wanted to see Chewie?"

"I've seen him, now we're leaving."

[Where are you going, Han?] the Wookiee appealed.

Leia appeared to have understood that much.

"Back to my cabin?" she boldly suggested.

Han hesitated. "Uh…yeah, sure. Your cabin." He soberly stared at her. "Is that okay?"

Leia fondly touched his cheek. "Of course, it's okay."

[Where are you going, Han?] Chewbacca called out again as the couple began walking away, hand in hand.

Solo gruffly replied over his shoulder, "To find a blaster. And then I'm coming back to kill you."

Chewbacca chuckled. [I'm glad to see that you're feeling more like your old self!]

The Corellian shook his head wearily.

[And for all our sakes, keep your copulation confined to the princess's cabin. We're trying to run a war here, you know!]

Keeping his back to his friend, Solo raised his hand in a crude gesture that had its origins on Kashyyyk. Loudly guffawing, Chewbacca collected his tool bag from the deck and headed up the _Falcon's_ boarding ramp.


	12. Chapter 12

**Waking Up**

**by CorellianBlue**

_(first published 2002, revised 2016 and 2020)_

**XII**

_Giddy._

That was the word Leia used to describe the way she felt as she led Han back to her cabin. She had never felt giddy before, but she was certain the light-headedness and eagerness that made her seemingly float down the cruiser's corridors could best be summed up in that one ridiculous word that was used far too much in trashy holo-romances.

Her whole body tingled and buzzed, especially when she bumped against Han's side. An ache deep in her core was both agonising and immensely pleasurable. If she didn't make love to Han soon, she was going to implode.

They had been silent for most of the journey, Leia glancing frequently at Han as they walked along, checking to see he was still there despite holding on to his arm. Solo returned her inquisitive looks with the odd frown or perplexed smile, as if he didn't quite understand a joke she was making.

He eventually asked her, "What's so funny?"

Leia struggled to keep her composure. "Just happy. Happy to be here with you. Happy to be going back to my cabin with you."

She nearly melted when he favoured her with his lopsided smile and murmured, "Oh."

At the hatch to her cabin, Han hovered over her shoulder while she keyed in the security code. He followed her in, the door cycling shut behind them, and for a moment they stood awkwardly in the entranceway, eyes not quite meeting.

Leia gestured around at the cramped quarters that she had been assigned: a bunk, probably just big enough for two; a cramped desk and chair; the door to a miniscule closet; an adjoining refresher suite that she could practically turn around in the middle of and touch each bulkhead. This is what you got when you bugged out of the Alliance without the blessing of the High Command.

"Make yourself at home," Leia offered, almost cringing at how cliched and out of place that sounded.

His shoulders sagged, as if she had instructed him to stand at-ease, and she felt her expectations sag as well. "Do you mind if I sit down?"

He was already lowering himself onto her bunk when she replied, "Uh, no, that's fine."

She watched as he looked around the cabin, rubbing the back of his neck, unsuccessfully trying to stifle a yawn against his palm.

"I always imagined your quarters would be bigger, more…" he hunted for the right word, "luxurious."

"I used to have a larger cabin," Leia replied archly, "but when the High Command found out I wanted to entertain company, they put me in here."

Solo stopped mid-yawn and stared at her.

"I'm joking," she reassured, but told herself, _Probably won't be too far from the truth when they realise _who_ I want to entertain._

She touched his hair and gave him a small smile. "Tired?"

He looked about two steps beyond tired, heading towards exhaustion. That little excursion to the hangar had put paid to good intentions. The night was not turning out the way she had hoped—dreamed, _desired_—and she wondered if she should've planned things a bit better: been at Han's bedside when he'd awoken, with Chewie in tow so that they didn't need to spend more time traipsing through the cruiser; laid things out for him so that it was a foregone conclusion that they would come back to her cabin, about half an hour sooner than they had. So much for that expertise she had as a logistics co-ordinator.

Han's response was not as tetchy as he had been earlier. "I'm good."

"I've got something for you," Leia brightly told him, hoping it might spark him up again.

She turned and opened her closet. It didn't take long to locate what she was after. She spun back towards him, her arms extended as she presented his missing gun-belt rig, complete with DL-44 heavy blaster pistol. The blaster Vader had snatched from his hand on Bespin.

Han's eyes widened in disbelief, and he cautiously took the holstered weapon from her.

"I found it onboard the _Falcon_," Leia explained, "after we escaped from Cloud City. Lando had his assistant put it on the _Falcon_ after we were captured."

Han's head dropped and he peered intently at the gun-rig, carefully examining every millimeter of it. His eyelids fluttered with each considered breath he took.

When he looked up at her, his eyes were glassy, his voice soft in his throat. "Thanks."

"I only _kept_ it for you," she replied. "Lando was the one who _saved_ it for you. You should thank him."

Han grimaced, nodded woodenly in reply. She kissed him on the forehead.

"Why don't you get comfortable. Hop into bed." she suggested. "I'm just going to have a quick 'fresher.

There was no need to rush. Leia took her time, and then some, spending longer in the refresher than she needed or wanted. She used the break to reign in her expectations of what would happen between herself and Han, and to give him the chance to either recover or collapse completely.

Sonic 'fresher finished, teeth brushed, she placed her hair into a single braid and slipped on a fresh pair of underpants and a sleeveless, Alliance-issue undershirt.

Leia was not surprised that Han was asleep when she returned to the main area of her cabin. And while part of her was disappointed that their reunion would not be consummated, she was relieved that Han had not placed himself in a position where he felt pressured to perform, particularly as the urinary catheter may have caused him some trouble.

At least he had undressed, leaving his clothes and gun-rig across the desk, his boots next to the chair. He rested on his back on the left-side of her bunk—_his_ _side_ of the bed as they had come to an unspoken agreement on the flight to Bespin. Leia took comfort in that small intimacy.

But as the right-side of the bunk was positioned up against the bulkhead, Leia was forced to climb up the end of the bed so as not to disturb Han by clambering over him. It was also a bit of an acrobatic act to scramble under the covers while she still lay on top of them. A larger cabin and bunk would be called for if Han intended on sleeping over. Leia bleakly wondered how _that_ request would go down with the High Command.

Settling onto her side, Leia dimmed the lights from the controls on the bulkhead and left a low-level light on in the refresher in case Han needed it.

Eyes closed and breathing peacefully, Han's head was turned slightly towards her and not quite on the pillow that they shared, his chin almost on his collarbone. There was no doubt in that position he would soon be snoring, but she didn't care. It was enough to have him there with her.

Leia gently rested her fingers on Han's bicep and closed her eyes.


	13. Chapter 13

**Waking Up**

**by CorellianBlue**

_(first published 2002, revised 2016 and 2020)_

**XIII**

_I can do this. I can do this. I can do this._

He was gasping as the platform lowered him towards the scan grid, the apparatus sending out low bursts of electrical current into his body. His muscles contracted sharply, released, contracted, released. He twitched, winced and struggled against the restraints. The pain was there and real, but it wasn't as bad as he had feared. He could do this.

_IcandothisIcandothisIcandothis—_

And then he was on fire.

He screamed.

Contract. Release. Contract. Release.

He lost all sense of where he was, _who_ he was.

There was just agony.

Agony burning through him.

Spasms contorting his body, inhuman cries roaring from his throat.

And then it stopped.

He'd blacked out.

Or the grid had powered down.

He had no idea which.

It didn't matter because he continued convulsing and writhing with the after-effects of the torture.

And then it started again.

_Nononono—_

Contract. Release.

Contract. Release.

He burned.

And screamed.


	14. Chapter 14

**Waking Up**

**by CorellianBlue**

_(first published 2002, revised 2016 and 2020)_

**XIV**

Leia wasn't sure what had woken her. One minute she had been in a deep and sound sleep. The next, she was wide awake, eyes open, staring into the night-mode lighting in her cabin.

She immediately looked to her left. Han was still there in her bed, his eyes closed in sleep, a frown marring his brow.

Leia glanced at the chrono-display set into a nook on her side of the bed. They'd been asleep for about eighty minutes. Another seven hours before she was due back on duty.

There was a sharp intake of breath, and then Han was gasping, shuddering as cries of distress choked in his throat. His anguish did not startle her; but her heart shattered regardless.

"Han. Han," Leia called his name as she gently shook his shoulder. "Sweetheart, wake up."

His eyes snapped open, but she could sense he wasn't fully awake from the way his gaze appeared lost and unfocussed as he panted and gulped for breath. And then he struggled upright, fighting with the bedcovers, trying to untangle himself as he surged from her bed and stumbled into the refresher.

She heard him wrench up the lid of the sani unit, the nauseating sound of him retching and the ensuing tumble of what little he had in his stomach as it spilled into the bowl. As he'd only had soup and a small piece of bread, the vomiting itself was brief, but his gagging and dry retching continued for a minute or so after.

As concerned as she was for him, Leia stayed on the bed. The last thing Han wanted would be her fussing over him; she knew him well enough to know that much. She was glad, at least, that she'd had the foresight to leave a light on for him.

There was a mutter of self-disgust and she heard him spit into the bowl before cycling the unit to cleanse it. The sound of running water and another spit, this time into the hand basin. The lid of the sani was lifted again and he whimpered as he relieved himself into the bowl. Leia was tempted to call out and tell him that she had left the tube of anti-inflammatory gel on the shelf above the basin, but she knew he wouldn't appreciate that either.

The sani lid closed and it cycled again. Another sound of running water as he washed his hands. And then silence.

On the bed, Leia leaned towards the refresher, straining for any further indication as to what he was doing in there. Her heart thumped in her chest. She was certain Han had thrown up as a reaction to his nightmare; this was not a continuation of the hibernation sickness. The idea made her just as nauseous.

Five minutes passed and he remained in the 'fresher. She found him sitting on the closed lid of the sani, forearms resting on his thighs with his head bowed over into his hands. The muscles in his jaw jumped and bunched as she watched him from the hatchway.

"Come back to bed," Leia told him softly.

Han looked up her through weary eyes.

"Sorry I woke you," he mumbled.

"You didn't. Come back to bed."

He nodded, followed her back into the room.

Leia slipped under the sheet first, then waited for him to settle himself back onto the bed before snuggling into his side, pulling the coverlet over them both.

"I love you," she whispered.

He held her tightly. "I know."


	15. Chapter 15

**Waking Up**

**by CorellianBlue**

_(first published 2002, revised 2016 and 2020)_

**XV**

The metallic _snick_ of a holster buckle clicking together woke Leia this time.

She felt sleepy and drained, and it took her a few moments to orientate herself as she sat up. Han was standing next to the desk, fully dressed, adjusting the gun-rig's tie-down strap above his knee. He watched her warily as she worked out what was going on.

Leia glanced at the bulkhead chrono. Less than three hours had passed since Han's nightmare. Both had lain awake for quite some time after that, he relentlessly fidgeting as he'd held her, his shallow breathing punctuated by agitated intakes of breath, which in turn had stopped her from falling asleep. Fatigue, physical and emotional, had eventually claimed her. From the way he held his shoulders, she doubted if Han had been as successful in sleeping.

Leia raised the cabin's lighting level so she could more easily she his face. He looked pale, drawn, the lines around his eyes taut with stress.

"I need to check out the _Falcon_," he said. "Make sure she's ready."

Leia pressed a palm to her forehead, fighting off the headache that was building, but she kept her disquiet in check. "Didn't Chewie say the _Falcon_ was fully operational?"

He didn't respond, dropped his gaze as he re-settled the position of the blaster in the holster and flicked over the retaining strap.

Leia tried again. "Did you manage to get any sleep?"

Han pressed his lips together, glanced at her from under his brows, shook his head.

"Come back to bed." She held her hand out to him.

"I can't sleep. I'm wasting my time laying there. I need to check out the _Falcon_."

She tried another tack. "Well, come back and hold me while_ I_ sleep. You won't be wasting your time then, and you may even find that you do eventually fall asleep."

"I've done enough sleeping," he quietly told her. "It's about time I woke up."

"Han…"

He clenched his teeth, then bit out each word, "I need to check out the _Falcon_."

She was far more concerned for him than shocked, but he noticed how his abrupt tone had affected her because he dropped his eyes again.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I can't…I can't lay here any longer. I need to _do_ something."

"It's all right."

Han shook his head, remained silent.

"Look, it's not a problem," Leia reassured him. "If it will make you feel better, go and see the _Falcon_. Check out if she needs more work done on her." He may even be more comfortable sleeping in his own bunk then hers. "I get a mid-shift break, so I'll come and see you and we can get something to eat together. How does that sound?"

He looked at her sceptically.

"I'll call you on the _Falcon_. All right? In about…" She glanced at the chrono. "…nine hours." Was it that long? Nine more hours for her to worry about him, not that she wasn't worried about enough him already.

Han nodded, turned his shoulders as if to leave, then stopped. Two quick steps and he was kneeling on the bed beside her, curving his arms around her and holding her as if his life depended upon it. Leia simply held him; now was not the time for reassurances, declarations of love or tears.

They eventually parted, briefly kissed, then he climbed from the bed and headed for the hatchway.

"Be kind to yourself," she told him.

He gave her a small, self-conscious smile, then left.

Leia released the breath she had been holding and sat there for a moment, willing her hands to stop trembling. She wasn't due at work for another four hours, but she doubted that she'd be able to get back to sleep. And she still had that report she needed to finish for Rieekan.

Leia rose from the bed and began getting ready for work.

* * *

**This story continues in **_**Committed**_**.**

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Thanks to all for your lovely feedback - wonderful!

It has been a labour of love to revisit and tweak this fic.

I'll be doing the same with the sequel, Committed. However, I'm currently half-way through writing a NEW flight to Bespin interlude, so I'm not sure if Committed will come sooner rather than later. Shall see how I go, as I managed to update Waking Up and write the new fic concurrently.

Cheers,

CorellianBlue


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